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By  MRS.  GORE, 


AUTHOR   OF  "ABEDNEGO  THE  MONEY  LENDER,"  "MEN  OF  CAPITAL,"  &c. 


N  E  W     Y  0  R  K  : 
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OB, 


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CRAIGALLAN     CASTLE 


A    ROMANCE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EvKRT  one  knows  the  effticts  of  a  sultry 
nuinmer  evening  upon  the  huiuiin  coiisti- 
tutioQ.  Muscular  action  is  well  nigh  sus- 
pended, ami  the  iriind  sinks  under  a  le- 
thargic torpor  which  is  not  easily  dissi- 
pated. In  such  a  state  those  who  must 
work  do  it  lazily,  and  those  whocaa  avoid 
exerrion  seek  tor  repose  either  in  actual 
elunihi^r  or  in  listless  apathy  ;  hut  at  the 
time  our  tale  c<iiuiuences,  the  evening  had 
not  being  so  far  protracted  as  to  warrant 
a  creihtahle  iniiulgcnce  in  the  former  al- 
ternative. '  Urowsy  tinklings'  had  not' 
yet  begun  '  to  lull  the  distant  folds,'  nei- 
ther had  tlie  Ettrick  Shepherd's  criterion 
of  eventide  arrived  ;  for  no  amorous  swaina 
hovered  about  the  dairies  to  show  it  was 
the  hour  when  the  *  kye  come  hame.'  The 
icene  being  laiii  in  the  country,  the  ener- 
fating  state  of  nature  was  more  strikingly 
apparent ;  clouds  of  dust  rolled  upon  the  , 
road,  raised  less  by  the  intensity  of  the 
wind  then  by  the  arid  matter  which  lay 
upon  its  surface,  and  which  had  already 
ffjb'wd  the  hedg"s  of  their  green,  and 
clothed  them  in  murky  brown.  Agricul- 
tural improvement  did  not  appear  to 
have  made  much  projiress,  as  the  crops 
Were  scanty,  tlie  fields  poorly  inclosed, 
&Qd  the  cottars"  houses  few  in  number, 
and  destitute  of  external  indications  of 
comfort.  Only  one  traveller  was  to  be 
seen,  and  he  was  a  pedestrian.  His  age 
might  be  about  fifty,  and  his  dress  con- 
sisted of  a  suit  of  ru^ty  black  clothes,  sur- 
mount»'<l  by  a  clerical  gown  of  coarse  ma- 
terial, in  some  places  torn,  and  in  ail  well 
garp-ished  with  the  livery  <if  the  roa<l.  A 
Blight  halt  in  his  w.dk  increased  the  un- 
gaitilioess  of  agait  predisp  ised  to  be  awk- 
ward ;  his  features  presented  that  (;om  i- 
natioii  of  shrewdness  and  stoHdity  which 
puzzlt'S  gouty  justices  of  the  peace,  when 
ihey  have  to  decide  whether  certain  crimi- 
o&Ib  belong  to  the  rogue  or  fool  geaerd — 


a  ccmbination  which  generally  consist*  of 
.1  knowing  eye  and  an  open  mouth.  Ua 
limped  along  what  literally  was  to  him  a 
weary  way  ;  all  the  huts  that  he  passed 
were  considerably  off  the  wayside,  and  as 
none  of  them  seemed  to  meet  his  views  aa 
suitable  for  pyassing  the  night,  he  held*oo 
his  way  in  search  tjf  more  appropriate  ao> 
commodation  ;  n»w  quenching  his  thirat 
at  some  small  brook,  now  plucking  an 
herbaceous  plant  meet  for  man,  and  anon 
fanning  himself  with  his  hat,  and  groan- 
ing at  the  lucklessness  of  his  lot.  At 
length  a  tew  dreary  miles  brought  him  in 
siglit  of  a  tolerably-sized  farm-hi)use  with 
a  slated  roof — an  object  on  which  he  gazed 
with  some  eagerness,  and  to  winch  he 
pressed  ibrward  with  all  the  ardor  which 
bis  jaded  frame  would  admit  of  Passing 
the  chained  dog,  who  snarled  as  a  matter 
of  course,  the  first  object  that  presented 
itself  was  a  sloveidy  red-haired  servant 
wench,  who,  perceiving  him,  ran  into  the 
house  excaiming — 

'  Eh  !  here  is  Kilbadie,  the  daft  min- 
ister !' 

Kilbadie  thought  this  ejaculation  un- 
propitious ;  nevertheless   he   marched  di- 
rectly into  the  kitchen,  which   displayed 
an  array  of  culinary  utensils  more  copioua 
than  is  commonly  to  tie  Ibuud  in  the  domi- 
ciles (;f  Scotch  farmers. 
I      '  Is  tliere  any  work  to  perform  in  the 
'  preaching  line''   said  the  ecclesiastic,  for 
'  it  was  part  ot  liis  policy  to  make  it  appear 
that  he  was  the   p nty   conferring  rather 
th  in  receiving  t)ei'etit. 

'  No,  no,'  said  the  .\bigail-in-chief, '  we 
have  plenty  of  preaching  on  Su?idays.' 

'  la  tliere  no  sick  [lerson  about  the  place 
that  wants  consol.ttion !  nor  no  children 
to  bantise  V  continued  tlie  querist. 

'  Nothing  of  tlie  kind,'  was  the  re- 
joinder. 

'  No  marriages  to  celebrate  V  persevered 
the  {iriest. 

'  Oh,  maybe  there  might  be  something 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


phwre's  luy  dincebe  ;  and  us  tii  my  huiIk 
rity,  that  is  all  a  matter  of  taste.  H  you 
ask  an  ludejieiideTit  what  he  thinks  ot  a 
Quaker,  he  will  say  nought  ;  ifyou  at^k  a 
Presbyterian  what  he  thinks  of  an  Inde- 
pendent, he  will  say  nunirht  ;  if  you  ask 
an  Ef.iscopalian  what  he  thinks  of  aPi-es- 
byterian,  he  will  say  nought;  if  you  ask  a 
Papist  v.hat  he  thinks  oi  an  Episuopalian, 
he  will  say  nuu^^ht ;  if  you  ask  a  Uuita 


o*  that  bind,'  said  the  nymph,  '  but  then  hie  repeated  salutations,  he  made  his  way 

ye're  no  a  richt  minister.'  to  the  barn,  and  presenU-d  himself  among 

*  Am   I   no?'  said    Kilhadie,    rising  in   the  guests.     His   |  r<  sence   socm   became 

\»Tath  at  this  allusion  to  the  quality  ot  his   known,  and,  on  ascertaining  the  accident 

cloth, '  who  has  a  l)etter  richt  than  me  to  I  which  had   hrciight  him   auiongst  thun, 

administer    ordinances,    1   would   like  to  i  si  me  of  the  young   men   went   out  and 

l[u,;w?'  uiiniatcred    to   tiie   wants  of  the   horse, 

'  Oh,  ye  ken  ye  dinna  preach  in  a  kirk,    whom  they  pronounced  to  be  in  n<i  im- 

like    other    ministers,'    replied   the    fair  |  medi^tte  danger.     Relieved  fr<ui  ;ill  ;inxi©- 

m,e.  ty  regurdii^g  hi^Ro^inaute,  thegtntleman 

'  That  8  because  I  am  not  lazy  enough    bitrayed  no  reluctance  to  join  in  themer- 

to  stopat home,'  retorted  the  lunctionnry.  I  ryuiiiking.       His    age   might    have    been 

The  worla  is  my  parish,  and  the  hemis-    ahuut  thirty-five  ;  and   although  the  casi 

of  his  countenance  did  not  indicate  a  con- 
tinued gaiety,  hutmther  the  reverse,  stiU 
the  minute  observer  could  detect  a  warmth 
of  eye  which  seemed  to  convey  an  intima- 
tion that  there  were  times  when  its  pos- 
sessor codld  unbend  liimself  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  social  pleasures.  He  was  invited 
to  join  in  the  festivities,  and,  indeed,  to 
select  his  partner.  The  novelty  of  the 
idea  appeared  to  strike  him  forcibly,  and, 
rian  whar'^he  thinks  of  a  Roman,  he  vill  j  entering  into  the  whim,  he  cast  his  eyea 
Bay  nought ;  if  you  ask  a  Nothingiirian  '  around  in  order  to  make  his  choice.  It 
what  he  says  of  Priestly,  the  reply  will'  fell  on  Mary  Morrison,  the  orphan  niece 
Btill  be  nought.  Wherefore,  then,  should  j  of  a  neighboring  tiirmer  and  a  young  girl 
any  one  challenge  me,  seeing  that  there  \  of  considerable  beauty,  Slie  was  there 
is  no  body  ot  divinity  universally  upheld  more  as  a  spectator  than  an  actor,  bav- 
in this  or  any  other  nation  under  the  tir  j  ing,  on  her  way  from  the  fair,  been  oblig 
mament  V  I  ed    by  a  cross-grained   cousin  to  '  go  intc 

!t  is  not  probable  that  this  dissertation,  I  Mibon^barn  to  see  one  of  Kilbadies  mar 
although  somewhat  pttilosophical,   would    ""g^^. 

have  had  much  effect  in  convincing  the  Mary  was  reluctantly  dragged  to  tha 
auditory  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  had  |  altar.  •  Kilhadie  performed  the  ceremony 
it  not  been  that  it  happened  to  suit  their  j  with  all  becoming  gravity  ;  and  the  new- 
convenience  to  regard  Kilhadie  s  orders  as  ly-wedded  couple  received  the  congratu- 
canonical  at  this  particular  juncture.  The  lations  customary  on  such  occasitpus. — 
farmer  and  bis  wife  were  from  home,  and;  Anon  several  itinerant  musicians,  insh 
it  was  the  evening  of  a  neighboring  fair  ;  >  from  the  idea  of  dancing;  and  without 
and  so,  the  niiuds  of  the  domestics  being  i  delay  that  spirit-stirring  passtime  c\)ax- 
predisposed  for  jollity,  the  idea  of  a  mock  ,  menced  with  something  like  earnestness, 
saarringe  to  be  celebrated  by  the  wander-  Tlje  polka  was  then  unknown  ;  but  Scotch 
ing  priest  readily  occurred  to  them.  Kil-  }  reels  and  country  dances  6Up]ilied  ita 
b«idie  was  iuvitid  in,  the  barn-lloor  was  j  place,  and  what  might  have  been  want- 
rapidly  cleared,  and  all  the  arr.mgements  i  ing  in  gracefulness  wiis  more  than  made 
made  that  could  be  ciiiried  into  etiect  un- .  up  by  eneigy  and  agility.  Almacka 
der  such  short  warning.  Gu-sts,  both  j  never  presi  nted  a  more  animated  scene, 
From  the  fair  and  from  the  adjacent  farms,  ,  nor,  we  may  add,  a  more  healthy  assem- 
poured  in,  in  large  numbt-rs,  ;aid  nothing  biy.  No  puny  dandies  or  delicate  missea 
seemed  wanting  to  complete  the  sport  liut  I  were  on  that  barn-floor.  Every  bound 
the  miitrimonial  victims.  Those  who  i  was  performed  with  bones  and  sinews  re- 
really  were  attached  to  each  other,  were  j  dolent  with  health,  and  the  ruddy  cheeka 
afraid  to  venture  on  so  open  a  declaration  and  sparkling  eyes  proclaimtd  that  the 
of  concord  ;  flirts,  as  usual,  were  undecid-  j  locomotive  resources  of  their  owners  were, 
ed  ;  and,  although  all  things  were  ready,  ,  like  coal-fields  advertis  d  for  sale — inex- 
the  joke  appeared  about  to  fall  to  the  haustible.  The  violence  of  the  dancera 
ground  for  want  of  the  necessary  actors,  re-acted  on  the  orchestra  ;  and  fiddle  Iowa, 
■wh(  n  a  new  incident  broke  in  upon  the  |  common  and  biies,  crossed  and  re-crossed 
rising  embarrassment  of  the  scene.  j  the   catgut  till  the  arms  of    the  artista 

A  traveller,  whose  borsfe  had  met  seemed  but  one  continuous  line,  and  thoM 
with  an  accident  wi  ich  disabled  him,  was  of  one  of  the  corps,  who  happened  to  be 
obhged  to  stek  shelter  in  the  farm-house  ;  blind,  had  a  maddened  glare  communicat- 
and  ae  no  one  had  come  forth  to  answer  i  ed  to  his  sightless  eyeballs,  which.,  had 


CKATGALLAN  CASTLE. 


he  been  a  Tninstrel  of  old  might  have  pass- 
ed fur  insjiirati'in.  KiHwdie  himself  wao 
at  last  fired  with  the  mania  ;  and  when 
the  m.igic  air  of  'Jeannie  8  Bawbee'  was 
Btrui'k  up,  the  worthy  man  rose  to  his 
feet,  and  took  part  in  the  melee  with  an 
aLicritj  which  promised  to  amuse  the  au- 
dience t-.)r  a  long  time  ;  but  unfortunately, 
in  executinj^  some  of  the  more  rapid  move- 
ments, his  gown  got  entangled,  and  he 
fell  to  the  ground  ;  an  incident  which  oli- 
cited  from  liiiu  a  muttered  remark  about 
the  evils  of  conformity  to  the  world. 

Me.inwhile  the  traveller  neglected  not 
his  bri<le  He  did  not  speak  long  with 
her  lAithout  discovering  that  she  was  supe- 
rior to  the  rest  of  the  merrymakers  ;  ami 
it  was  not  without  some  alarm  that  he 
farther  discovered  in  her  somewhat  of 
that  emharrarisment  of  manner  which  is 
ever  the  symptom  of  love.  However  in- 
Cimvetiietit  it  might  have  been  for  him  to 
return  her  affection,  lie  could  not  but  be 
Conscious  that  the  encouragement  he  had 
given  her  was,  with  every  allowance  tor 
travestie,  of  a  kind  peculiarly  marked  ; 
and  although  the  indications  which  she 
gave  of  the  state  of  her  feelings  vfere  mo- 
dest and  retiring,  and  such  only  as  an 
acute  observer  could  alone  have  detected, 
Btill  they  were  precisely  of  that  descrip- 
tion which  an  houorahle  mind  never  tam- 
pers with.  Love  begets  love.  The  pnmd- 
est  beauty  that  ever  wore  coronet  regards 
with  8<iuie  measure  of  complacency  her 
rural  admirers;  she  feels  that  a  tribute 
has  been  paid  to  her  charms,  and  her  selt- 
love  is  soothed  by  it ;  and  although  the 
feeling  may  not  prompt  her  to  give  her 
heart,  or  even  her  hand,  there  will  he  a 
latent  feeling  of  respect  towards  the  un- 
fortunate swain.  Let  no  rejected  lover, 
therefore,  despair  ;  continual  dropping 
wears  the  stone. 

Mary  Morrison,  although  unconsciously, 
was  first  making  a  conquest ;  but  she  had 
to  deal  with  a  heartless  man — one  whotte 
first  impulses  were  generally  good,  but 
whose  second  thoughts  were  as  generally 
cold  and  selfish. 

As  if  suddenly  recollecting  himself,  he 
gave  M.iry's  hand  a  slight  squeeze,  and 
abruptly  left  the  barn.  He  proceeded  to 
harness  his  horse,  which,  in  the  now  com- 
parative darkness,  he  had  some  ditficulty 
m  doiug. 

'  So  you  are  going  to  leave  your  wife?' 
•aid  A  voice. 

'  Oh,  a  mere  frolic  !  it's  time  the  joke 
were  now  over,'  was  the  renly. 

'  Certainly,  if  both  parties  are  agreed,' 
rejoined  the  unknown  stranger. 

'  And  if  they  should  not — what  then  ?' 
he  aaked. 


*  Why  in  that  case,  you  must  maintahi 
Miss  Morison  for  life,  marry  no  othei 
body,  or,  if  you  do,  run  the  risk  of  tuial 
for  bigamy.' 

'  Pooh  !  nonsense  !'  replied  the  travel* 
lor  '  That  foolish  min,  Kilb.idie,  as  ha 
is  called,  is  not  a  regular  clergyman.' 

'  In  Scotland,  a  declaration  before  wit- 
nesses that  a  man  and  woman  are  hus- 
band and  wiftj  constitutes  a  legal  mar- 
riage.' 

'Hell  and  fury?  "Who  are  you?'  h« 
demanded. 

*  Ludivicko  Grant,  a  writer's  clerk,  and 
Mary  Morison's  cousin.' 

Tne  traveller  groaned. 

'  And  so  you  and  the  young  woman 
have  hatched  a  plot  to  ensnare  me  ;  but 
you'll  find  that  I  am  Yorkshire  too.  ' 

'  You  are  mistaken,'  said  the  impertur- 
bable Ludovicko.  '  1  did  not  reach  the 
farm  until  the  ceremony  was  half  over. 
Mary  foolishly  imagines  ihat  you  are  in 
love  with  her,  and,  under  that  belief, 
Would  have  the  marriage  carried  out ;  but 
if  she  knew  that  you  were  to  bolt,  she  ifl 
the  list  girl  in  the  worlu  that  would  think 
of  detaining  you.' 

'  Well,  can  t  you  tell  her  that  I  want 
to  bolt?' 

'  It  does  not  suit  my  purpose.' 

'  Your  purpose,  you  iiupertinet  scoun- 
drel !  What  have  you  got  to  do  with  it?' 
aaked  the  traveller,  in  great  wrath. 

'Simply  this,  that  I  ain  my  uncle's 
heir ;  and  if  Mary  Morison  be  not  pro- 
vided for  hy  marriage,  my  uncle  will  set- 
tle something  (m  her,  which,  j>ro  lanto, 
will  be  a  deduction  from  my  reversion.' 

The  coolness  with  which  tiiis  state 
inent  was  delivered  unnerved  the  travel- 
ler ,  and,  beginning  to  see  something  like 
meshes  weaving  around  him,  he  assumed 
a  more  pacific  tone. 

'  But,  my  good  Mr.  Grant,'  said  he, 
'your  cousin  is  a  pretty  girl,  and  can 
have  no  difficulty  in  getting  a  husband.' 

'  A  bird  in  hand,  as  the  pirovetb  says, 
is  one  thing  ;  good  family  connections  is 
another  ;  and,  besides,  I  like  the  idea  of 
doing  you — it's  in  the  way  of  business.' 

'  This  effrontery  is  intolerable  Make 
way,  sir,  lor  my  horse,  and  do  your  worst. 
Once  <jir,  catch  me  it  you  can.' 

'  Don  t  hurry  your.-telf,"  said  Mr.  Grant, 
with  mock  courtesy,  *  I  know  your  ad- 
dress from  your  portmanteau.' 

'  Ha,  ha  I '  said  the  traveller,  '  it  was 
borrowed  from  a  friend.' 

'  And  perhaps  you  also  borrowed  youj 
hat  and  your  snuff-box  from  the  same 
friend,  did  you?  It  won't  do,  Mr.  God- 
frey Graham  ;  or,  if  you  choose  to  pu4 
that  face  un  matters,  we  must  carry  jod 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


bef()re  the  next  jiratice  of  peace  fi>r  mak- 
CQg  8o  tree  vvitli  ^iiur  friend  8  wardrobe.' 

'  1  tt;ll  yt)U,  sir,  get  out  of  the  w;iv  and 
do  yiiur  worst.' 

'  Uh,  certainly,  sir  !  but,  to  show  you 
that  I  have  more  regard  to  your  interests 
than  you  imagine,  1  will  give  you  tlii> 
piece  of  advice — do  not  drive  too  fast.  I 
rather  think  that  I  heard  the  iiostler  sa} 
■something  at)out  one  of  your  liorse  s  shoes 
being  faulty.      Good   morning." 

(jraham  examined  the  animal,  and 
found  that  one  of  the  shoes  had  been  care- 
fully removed.  Turning  back  the  horse 
in  disgust,  he  strode  across  the  farm-yard 
Day  was  just  breaking;  and,  not  readily 
tinOing  his  way  out,  lie  accosted  a  female 
figure  that  came  gliding  past. 

*  Can  you  show  me  the  way  out  of  this 
cursed  place  V  said  he  roughly. 

'  Certainly,  sir,'  replied  Mary  Morison, 
■who  turned  out  to  be  the  party  spoken  to. 
'Has  anything  happened!'  she  asked, 
with  some  hesitation. 

'  This  mock  marriage — is  it  not  very 
hard  that  one  cannot  make  a  j(jke  with- 
out being  trepanned?' 

'  1  do  not  understand  you,  sir,'  said 
Mary,  trembling.  '  That  is  the  way  to 
the  high  road.' 

*  Tliauk  you.  Good-bye,  Miss  Mori- 
son.' 

'  Graham  was,  as  we  have  said  before, 
a  man  'it  impulse.  When  bidding  fare- 
well, Mary  dropped  a  hot  tear  on  his 
hand — an  act  ol  which  an  older  person, 
t>r  one  more  accustomed  to  love  matters, 
could  not  liave  been  guilty. 

'  My  go. id  girl.  Said  Graham,  and  he 
stopped  short.  After  a  pause,  during 
■which  he  pressed  her  towards  h-im,  '1 
love  you,  Mary  ;   but  I  hate  your  cousin." 

*  So  do  1,  said  the  simple  Mary.  '  He 
told  me,  half  an  hour  ago,  that  you  had 
run  away  :  and  he  looked  so  wicked  when 
he  told  me.' 

»  I  married  you  in  jest,  Mary,  but  I 
mean  to  do  it  in  earnest.' 

'AH  right!'  said  Ludovicko  behind 
them,  who,  with  characteristic  good  taste, 
Lad  now  been  playing  the  part  ot  eaves- 
dropper. 


CHAPTER  IT 

Ocr  story  must  now  take  a  stride  of  ton 
years.  (Godfrey  Graham  was  one  of  two 
Bons— fthe  father  being  arich  merchant  in 
the  town  of  Panlton,  old  and  peevish. 
His  desire  was  that  the  bulk  of  his  fortune 
should  descend  to  one  of  his  sons,  in  or- 
der that  the  family  name  might  be  per- 


petuated ;  hut  ■which  of  them,  whethef 
(iodlrey  or  his  j'oiinger  broKier  Jolm.  tha 
siie  could  not  decide.  At  one  time  he  in- 
clined to  the  elder,  then  he  would  sud- 
denly turn  his  ulTeetions  to  the  other;  and 
v\  hile  in  this  state  of  vucill.itiim,  f.e  pur- 
chased the  CMStle  and  estate  of  Craijiallan, 
which,  formerly  the  property  of  a  noble 
family  att:iinte(i  for  tlieir  share  in  the  Re- 
bi  llion  of  1745,  had  hitterlv  hilten  into  de- 
cay, although  still  sufficiently  imposing  to 
give  him  a  rank  and  {>ositi*  n  in  the  dis- 
trict considerably  above  the  level  of  hia 
brother  traders,  Thepurtnase  was  made 
soon  after  the  occurrence  of  to's  eventfl 
narrated  in  the  last  chapoer,  gixj  it  need 
scaicely  be  adiled  that  Godfrey  concealed 
all  knowledge  of  Mary  IviorisiKi  fioni  hia 
father.  The  scene  of  the  m.trriajie  lay  at 
tlie  distance  of  more  than  a  hundred  niilea 
Irom  Panlton,  and  as  none  knew  of  hia 
history  excejit  Mary  and  Ludovicko,  tl.ere 
was  little  risk  of  tlie  sec/et  being  discov- 
ered. 

Godfrey  had  never  iit'ipired  after  his  f-i- 
ther's  wealth.  Attached  to  conjmereial 
[lursuits,  as  much  froia  a  love  of  enter- 
prise as  from  hope  of  j,ain,  he  saw  before 
lam  the  means  of  couipetency.  and  cared 
little  fir  anything  Iiey(<nd.  The  jiurchase 
of  Craigallan  ex(^ite(l  in  him  a  temporary 
feeliuic  of  auiliition,  luit  it  passed  away, 
and  might  have  remained  away  for  ever, 
had  he  not  discovered  that  his  brother 
was  scheming  to  sujiplant  him  entirely  in 
his  fither's  good  opinion.  While  osten- 
sibly on  the  most  atfci-tionate  terms  with 
Goilfrey,  John  in.-^idionsly  represented  to 
the  old  man  that  his  hrutber  was  given  to 
speculation,  and  that  if  allowed  facilities 
by  command  ofcajiital  to  any  considerable 
i^stent,  he  was  sure  to  involve  himself  and 
all  cotmected  v^'ith  him  in  ruin.  Age  is 
ever  credulous,  and  is  always  prepare<f  to 
denounce  im[irudencc  in  youth  ;  and 
hence  irritated  by  frequent  allusions  to 
the  failure  ot  schemes  undertaken  ))y  God- 
frey, altiiough  privately  urged  on  him  by 
John,  the  old  man  could  n<itlong  restrain 
liimself,  and  roundly  took  Godfrey  to 
task. 

The  latter  saw  at  once  the  plot,  and 
forthwith  adopted  the  necessary  steps  to 
meet  it.  He  was  not  unaware  of  a  pre- 
dilection which  his  father  entertained  foi 
him,  and  he  was  at  the  same  time  con 
scions  of  his  own  mental  superiority  to 
liis  brother.  lie  did  not  attempt  to  dis- 
abuse his  father  by  words,  but  he  reso- 
lutely set  to  work,  and.  devoting  himself 
soul  and  body  to  busint  as,  completely  de- 
monstrated the  calumnies  of  John.  At 
lenijth  his  father  died  intestate.  Godfrey 
took  possession  of  Craigallan,  the  most 
valuable  portion  of  the   patnimony,  and 


CRATGALLAN  CASTLE. 


allowed  John  to  take  the  reot.  Godfrey 
prospf^reii  d.ty  Jifter  day,  and  business  he- 
Ciiiiie  his  rulin;^  pission.  John,  on  the 
contrary,  fl^iundtred,  hecinie  hankrufit 
more  than  once,  and  hiid  on  each  occa- 
sion to  hn  rescued  hy  Godfrey,  who  did  so. 
-lot  from  any  feeliiitr  of  (compassion,  hut 
;iii>rely  to  keep  up  the  credit  of  the  family. 
Tlie  brothers  maint^iined  no  correspond- 
ence ;  John,  iniiecd.  fawned  on  Godfrey, 
but  he,  r^'collfctioi^  f  )riiier  events,  repell- 
ed him  with  contempt. 

But  wliat  of  Mary  Morison^  Godfrey 
Grahawi  was  not  destitute  of  aflP-ction'  to- 
wards her,  and  thoui^hts  of  her  obtru(h;d 
themseivt's  in  his  tiusiest  moments.  Com- 
merce could  not  absorb  his  whole  being; 
Tliere  were  times,  when  sauntering  alony; 
the  banks  of  the  buliblirig  river  that  ran 
thouiih  Criigdlin,  th;i,t  he  felt  a  void 
which  he  th  aijrlit  would  be  filled  up  were 
he  to  send  for  th^-  quiet,  (V)nfiding  Miry, 
and  publicly  nieogiiise  her  as  his  wife, 
and  her  child  as  his  son.  One  is  never 
happy  unless  the  affi-ctions  have  sonie- 
tliing  to  go  forth  and  fasten  on.  Forth 
they  will  go  ;  and  if,  like  the  dove  from 
the  ark,  they  come  back  empty-handed, 
disappointment  and  chagrin  is  the  sure 
result.  In  the  counting  room  Godfrey 
was  never  dull  ;  the  numerous  r;irnifica- 
tions  of  his  business  kept  him  perpetually 
oceufiied  ;  hut  at  home  in  the  old  c;istle, 
he  felt  the  pressur*  of  self  intolerably 
heavy.  He  wis  no  diner-out,  and  conse- 
quently seldom  had  company.  He  did 
not  hunt  or  fish;  he  cared  not  for  burgh, 
county,  or  national  politics  ;  he  did  not 
read,  unless  the  perusal  of  the  newspapers 
can  be  dignified  by  that  term.  Desp  lir- 
Ing  of  his  f ither  s  consent  to  the  recogni- 
tion of  M  iry,  and  not  selfish  enough  to 
wish  for  his  death,  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  the  expirition  of  a  long  period  before 
(inything  could  be  done  ;  and  at  length, 
when  the  time  did  arrive  that  he  became 
his  own  master,  the  usual  result  took 
pla(^e,  namely,  tliat  difficulties  that  seem 
<»ruail  in  the  distance  assume  m:ignitude 
ji  the  realis.ition.  VV;i8  Mary  the  proper 
^rson  to  iissume  the  management  of 
Oiaigall m  Castle?  Were  the  cir(!U9tances 
of  their  in  irriage  such  sus  would  entitle 
her  to  the  respect  (»f  the  neighborhood' 
Coula  tticse  (;ircumst  inees  beconcealed  if 
she  br-Uij^'it.  homf  a  boy  some  ten  years 
Old'  Hal  Ma^v  Morison  been  bold  enough 
to  visit  him,  aU  his  doutits  would  have 
ranished  ;  bat,  lo'ie  and  fri'^ndless  in  a 
distant  part  of  t^ie  countv,  Mary  had  long 
been  of  opinion,  nocwithstviiditig  tlie  legal 
explanations  of  Lua»n-ic(ii<,  th  it  she  was 
not  free  from  guilt ,  and,  regarding  her 
•strangeiaeat  frcin    Grahfviu  uu  vii^  juat 


punishment  of  heaven,  she  calmly  sfelv 
mitted  to  her  fate,  till  Fie  against  whom 
she  had  sinned  should  bring  her  husband 
and  her  boy  together — a  junction  which 
she  doubted  not  would  dispel  the  dark 
night  which  had  so  long  overshadowed 
her. 

Godfrey  was  about  to  give  in.  and  8<?nd 
fi)r  Mary,  wlien  in  an  evil  hour,  Ludovicko 
made  his  appearance  at  Craigilhm  This 
gentleman  had  (rommeneed  liusiness  in  a 
distant  town  ;  but  not  succeeding  to  his 
mind,  he  had  resolved  on  proceeding  to 
Paulton,  where  is  <N)nnexion  with  (iriham 
might  be  turned  to  advantage,  (iodfrey 
did  not  at  first  know  him — about  twenty 
some  young  men  chanofe  very  much  ;  hul 
he  bad  no  sooner  announced  himself  than 
Godfrey  broke  out — 

'  Mr.  (xrant,  I  am  desirous  tliat  inter- 
course V)etween  \is  should  hf  as  seldom 
as  possible.  State,  therefore,  the  purport 
of  your  visit  briefly,  if  you,  as  a  lawyer, 
can  do  so.' 

'  It  relates  to  my  cousin.' 
'  I  could   have  guessed  as   much,'   he 
said,  angrily. 

'  I  wish  you  to  own  her  as  your  wif«, 
and  bring  her  here.' 

'  t  scarcely  think,'  said  Godfrey,  '  that 
you  are  generous  enough  to  consult  her 
happiness.  What  ulterior  object  do  yon 
contemplate  !' 

'  The  queston  is  frank,  and  T  will  an- 
swer it.      I  wish  to  commence  business  aa 
a  writer  [Aiis/icc,  attorney]   in    Paulton, 
and  I  think  your  conexioa  m.iy  be  valua 
hie  ' 

'  Then,  sii ,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
your  o'lject  shall  not  be  obtain.",d.' 

'  You  forget,  Mr.  Graham,  that  I  have 
law  on  my  side.' 

'  I  do  not.  I  am  willing  to  maintain 
Miss  Morison.' 

'  Mrs.  (ilraham,  you  mean.' 
'  r  am  willing  to  maintain  her  and  her 
child  in  a  comfrtable  manner.' 

'  Yes,  but  she  and  he  must  be  maintain- 
ed in  a  way  suitable  to  their  rank  as  yoiur 
wife  and  sim.' 

'  Let  them  be  quiet,  and  they  will  not 
find  me  unreascmable.' 

'Quiet,  Mr.  Graham? — If  you  oblige 
me  to  have  recourse  to  legal  proceedings, 
everything  must  be  exposed.' 

'  Mr.  Grant,  you  bullied  me  once  before 
— you  shaH  not  do  so  again.  Do  the  very 
worst  you  can.  !My  position  is  somewhat 
(diaiiged  eince  tlie  last  time  we  met ;  and 
as  I  care  notliing  for  the  world,  nor  for 
its  opinion.  I  shall  hazzard  all  oddsagamst 
you.  Left  to  myself,  I  might  have  taken 
your  .viusin  home  ;  but  to  be  asked  by 
you,  and  to  know  that  you  will  chuckle  at 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


Ibe  result  of  your  machinations,  if  suc- 
cessful, is  more  than  fleah  and  blood  c;iii 
Btand,  and,  therefore,  it  shall  not  be 
done!' 

'  Very  well,  ]Mr.  Grah;iin,  we  will  try  ; 
I  shall  write  to  luy  cousin  to-night.' 

'  So  shall   I.' 

'  Yes,  and  see  whether  she  will  listen 
more  to  the  man  wiio  wishes  ti>  raise  Ikt, 
than  to  iiiiii  who  wishes  to  bra».id  her  and 
her  son  with  infamy.' 

'Dog!'s>ii(l  Gudlrey,  '  had  I  hut  the 
power,  as  I  liave  the  will,  I  would  toss 
you  over  the  window.' 

At  this  inoiut-nt  a  servant  entered  with 
a  letter  f«ir  Mr:  Graham.  He  hastily  ran 
over  the  contents,  and  sinking  into  a  tthair, 
covered  his  faon  with  his  hands,  and  ap- 
peard  to  siiff t  great  mental  agnny. 

After  a  loi'g  pause,  durinu;  which  Ludo- 


rent  his  conscience.  "VTherever  he  looked, 
the  pale,  meek  I'acH  of  Mary  pursued  him; 
and  wh>n  he  thought  of  htr  as  in  a  state 
of  hopeless  idi'icy,  he  groaned  aloud,  and 
smote  himself  in  very  despair.  Having 
sat  down  in  an  arbor,  he  was  accosted  by 
his  lious'  keeper. 

'  Your  niece.  Sarah  Graham,  sir,'  said 
Mrs.  M.irtin,  '  has  come  to  see  you.' 

'  Ti  11  her  to  b«  <r<me.' 

'  Well  ;  my  life  !'  quoth  Mrs.  Martha, 
'people  may  talk  about  blood  being  thick- 
er than  water  as  they  please  ;  but,  to  my 
iiiind,  it  is  not  half  so  thick.  Come  away, 
my  little  woman,  and  take  your  tea  with 
me,  for  all  your  uncle  being  so  cross.' 

A  low  Sob  WHS  all  the  answer  that  this 
kind  invitation  elicited. 

'  Why  won't  you  C(mie,  my  dear  •' 

'  Mamma  is  so  anjiry  when   she   hears 


vicko  did  not  stir,  one  of  his  maxims  being  i  that  I  have  not  seen  uncle  ;  and  she    al- 
that   everytliinjj;  was    in  good    time,  and  |  ways  says  that  it  is  my  fault.' 


that  patience  produced  results  which  skill 
could  not — 

Mr.  Grant,'  resumed  Godfrey,  in  a  sub- 
dued time,  '  I  said  that  I  could  not  bring 
home  your  cou.sin  because  you  had  asked 
me.  I  would  now  give  the  w(jrld  that  I 
had  it  in  my  power  to  bring  her  home. 
Read  the  letter  ' 

Smith  well,  22nd  August,  18—. 
Dear  Sir — [  regret  to  inform  you  that 
Mrs.  Moristin  has,  for  some  time  back, 
been  subject  to  deep  fits  of  melan<;holy, 
which  have  at  lenjith  settled  down  to  a 
permanent  aberrati^m  of  mind.  By  the 
best  medical  advice,  I  have  had  her  re- 
moved to  the  asylum  at  G ;  and  i^ave 

Bent  her  son  to  his  old  nurse,  where, with 
his  foster-brother,  he  will  likely  be  hap- 
jiier  than  anywhere  else.  For  ahmgtime, 
Mrs.  M.  recruited  during  the  visits  of  the 
boy,  but  latterly  he  ceased  to  have  any 
influence  on  her.  I  may  add  that  the 
me^lical  gentleman  whom  I  consulted  has 
little  hope  of  her  rec<jvery. 

Yours  very  truly, 

John  .GiLMorR. 

'  This,'  said  Ludovicko,  '  is  from  the 
party  in  whose  house  your  wife  was 
boarded  Mr  Graham  you  are  lucky.  A 
minor,  and  without  trustees,  cannot  readi- 
ly prosecute  his  own  father;  but  steps 
can  be  easily  taken — the  law  is  always 
fertile.' 

'  In  mercy  leave  me.' 

'  Certainly  ;  that  letter  leaves  me  with- 
out a  case  in  the  meantime  ;  but  we'll 
soon  make  one.     Good  evening.' 

Ludovicko  having  left,  Godfrey  rushed 
down  to  his  garden,  and  walked  about  in 
great  distress.  The  hitter  fruits  of  his 
IKOcrastination  now  rose  before  him,  and 


Here  another  sob  stopped  the  little 
speaker. 

Godfrey's  heart  failed  him  when  he 
overheard  this  dialogue.  '  If  I  am  in  pain 
myself,"  thought  he,  '  I  need  not  inflict  it 
on  others.' 

He  knew  that  his  brother  John  sent  his 
daughter  for  the  purpose  of  acting  the 
pnrt  of  mediator  ;  and  knowing  the  deceit 
of  the  parent,  he  naturally  identified  the 
child  with  the  execution  of  some  sinistei 
design.  He  had  always  refused  to  see 
her,  and  was  surprised  and  angry  at  the 
pertinacity  with  which  her  visits  were  re- 
peated. The  idea  of  her  beins;  an  inno- 
cent instrument  in  the  hands  of  her  father 
and  mother  never  had  occurred  to  him; 
but  now  the  conviction  flashed  across  him 
that  his  niece  might  not  be  a  voluntary 
as:;ent  in  the  matter.  He  had  scarcely 
seen  her,  or,  if  he  had,  his  notice  was  so 
slight  that  he  ccmld  not  be  said  to  know 
her.  Rising  fnmi  the  arbor,  he  went 
down  the  walk  and  overtook  them.  Hold- 
ing out  his  hand  kindly,  he  said  to  her — 

'  Come  back,  Sarah,  I  wish  to  speak  to 
you.' 

At  the  unexpected  words  Sarah  wept 
the  more  ;  but  her  tears  were  those  of 
gladness,  and  they  glittered  in  her  eyes 
like  dew-drops  on  a  flower.  Eagerly  catch- 
ing his  hand  in  both  of  hers,  she  looked 
up  to  him  with  such  a  look  of  confiding 
gratitude,  that  Godfrey  felt  himself  thrill- 
ed by  emotions  to  which  he  had  long  been 
a  stranger. 

'  Papa  and  mamma  will  be  so  glad,  dea> 
uncle,  to  hear  that  you  spoke  to  me.' 

'  Yes,  my  dear ;  but  tell  them  that  I 
spoke  to  you,  because  I  rather  like  yott; 
whilst  I_T— I— ' 

Sarah  did  not  at  all  comprehend  the  e« 


CRAIG  ALLAN  CASTLE. 


planatien  that  was  likely  to  f  illow  ;  and 
Be«inj^  tlic  impnipriiity  of  sendinu;  nii  un- 
friendly uKhSJine  l>y  an  uru«iiplii.-.tic:tted 
girl^Gudfrfy  stojipcd  ahurt.  an<i  felt  at 
poiue  loss  as  to  how  th«'  conversittion  wan 
to  be  ciinducted.  Sirali  had  not  arrived 
at  the  iig"  (;f  reserve,  and  therefore  she 
had  n.)  diffimilty  in  maintaining  the  col- 
loquy, whilst  at  the  same  tiuie,  her  man- 
ner was  removed  :i8  far  as  possible  from 
petuliuice  or  loquacity.  She  spoke  as 
i'roni  a  huoyant  hf'urt,  a  kind  ot  talking 
which,  especially  ia  children,  is  never  ot- 
ferisive . 

'  VVIiat  very  beautiful  flowers  you  have 
got,  uncle.' 

'  They  are  very  beautiful,'  said  Godfrey, 
glad  at  the  current  which  the  diiilugue 
was  now  to  run  in.  '  Are  you  fond  of 
flowers  !' 

'  Oh,  yes.  I  could  always  live  among 
them  ;  it  luust  be  so  pretty  to  sit  at  your 
windows,  and  look  out  and  see  so  many 
fine  flowers.  My  window  looks  out  to 
nothing  but  liouses  ;  but  I  have  two  flow- 
er-pot^, and  I  am  glad  when  the  summer 
days  come,  and  my  flowers  grow.' 

'  Two  flower-pots,  Sarah  ?  That  is  a 
very  small  garden-indeed.  I  shall  cause 
the  gardener  to  ^ek  you  S(mie  things 
that  will  grow  in  winter  aa  well  as  sum- 
mer.' 

'  You  are  very  kind,  uncle.  T  shall  be 
so  proud  to  have  flower  that  will  grow 
when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground.' 

'  Ye!(,  but  I  am  afr.iid  you  will  have  to 
keep  them  near  the  fire  ;  however,  John 
will  tell  you  all  about  it  ' 

Sarahs  c<ainteniince  fell. 

'  I  never  have  any  tire  in  my  room  in 
the  winter  time.  Mamma  would  not  al- 
low me  to  keep  them  in  the  dining  room, 
and — ' 

*  Well,  perhaps  John  will  give  you 
Bomething  that  will  not  require  fire.  Is 
there  anything  that  you  would  like  to 
buy,  Sarah  ? 

'  No,  uncle.' 

'  No  kind  of  dress?' 

'  No,  I  do  not  care  about  fine  dress,  but 
comin>i:  out  of  the  town  I  met  a  poor  wo- 
man with  three  very  nuked  children,  and 
they  asked  me  for  sonxjlliing,  and  I  was 
sorry  I  had  nothing  to  give  them.  When 
I  come  out  here  maiuma  sometimes  gives 
me  money  to  get  a  biscuit,  for  fe.ir  t 
should  be  hungry  on  my  road  ;  but  I  was 
always  so  sorry  when  I  did  not  see  you 
that  I  could  not  e;it  anything,  and  I  al- 
ways give  the  money  b:ick  to  mamma.' 

'  Could  you  cat  anything  now?' 

'  No,  I  iim  so  happy.' 

'  Well,  then,  Sarah.  Martha  will  go 
boi&e  part  uf  the  way  with  you,  and  she 


will  also  give  you  a  flower,  and  you  caa 
tell  your  mother  to  t)uy  with  this  any- 
tliiiig  that  she  t.'iinks  30U  stand  in  need 
;  of.  1  do  notleei  well  to-uight — good-bye, 
my  dear  child.' 

I      Putting  a  sttvereign  into  her  hand,  Goii- 
frey  aflectionately   ki.->sed    his   niece,  and 
I  betook  himself  to  the  castle,  whil.st  Sarah 
and  Mrs.  Martha  Martin  went  towarda  a 
I  gate  in  the  opposite  direction. 
I      '  My  troth,    hinny,'  saiil    the    matron, 
'but  you  are  in   luck!     I   have   kent  Mr. 
'  Graham  now  for  ten  years,  and  ye're  the 
i  lir:>t  o'  womankind    that  ever    I  saw  him 
I  show  ony   favor   to.      Folk   may  speak  o' 
I  him  as  they  like,  but   there  s  no  one  the 
!  like  o'  him  in  a'  the  country  side.     I  have 
been  housekeeper  in   ye  r  noble  families, 
but  I  wadna  a'l  e  him  for  them  a'.     There 
he  counted  it  up,  and  if  there  was  a  sin- 
gle bawbee  wrang,  he  was  like  to  eat  me, 
and  if  it  was  a'  richt,  then — "  Mrs,  Mar 
tin,  recollect  there   is  to  be  nothing  bst 
:  ec(jnomy  in    my  establishment!"       Noo, 
'  Mr   Graham  ne^er  looks  at  ni}'  pa'^sfiook, 
I  altho'  I  keep  it  ncht  fir  a"  that;  but  of 
I  course,  honest  man,  weel   he  kens  when 
;  he   is  weel    served.     The    soap    and    the 
I  bread  that   thae  twa  lasses  would  waste, 
i  if   I  wasna  at  their  lug.  would  ruin  a  na- 
I  tion.     But   there's  some   comfort  saving 
I  for  a  bachelor.     Nane  o'  your  wives  for 
me!     Theji  would  mak  their  men  believe 
I  that  they  save,  but  it  a'  Ka^ng'^  '"•r  gowns 
and   ribbons.     Noo,   there's   the  road  to 
!  the    town.     Good   niclit,  my   bonny  wo- 
tuen,  and  come  back  soon  again.' 

'  But  my  uncle  diii  not  bid  me  do  so.' 
'  Never  mjnd  that      Is  that  all  ye   kefl 
about  men?      Oh,   w  .    un  !  just  iisk  fur 
me,  and  leave  me  to  u..-jage  him." 


CHAPTER  III. 

Our  readers  will  now  be  introduced 
into  Godfrey  Graham's  •counting-home  ; 
and,  albeit  the  conversations  occurring 
there  ujay  not  be  of  the  most  intellectual 
character,  they  nevertheless  assist  in  tJie 
developement  of  the  story. 

'  So  governor  is  unwell,' said  Bob  Jonea 
to  bis  fellow  laborer  in  the  outer  office, 
Tom  Ogle  '  VVbat  shall  uedo  to  improve 
the  time  ?  Shall  we  go  a-boating,  ridiug, 
fishing,  or  what|f' 

*  I  m  not  sure,'  replied  Tom  ;  '  but  gup- 
pose  we  toss  in  the  meantime  for  pies  and 
porter.' 

'  Oh,  horrid  propogiti^in  I  One  would 
imagine,  Tom,  that  you  had  been  a  coal- 
heaver,  lliid  vod  8  lid  svida  and  cinder,  I 
Would  have  seconded  Che  motion  ' 


10 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTUJ- 


'  Well,  sod.  and  cind.  be  it.  Heads  or 
tails'* 

'  Heads!' 

'  T.iils  ;  done,  my  boy  ;  despatch  Jo- 
seph for  the  article.  What  can  he  the 
laatier  with  G.  G.  V 

'  Can't  say,'  replied  Tom  ;  '  hut  it  mnst 
be  something  smart,  otherwise  he  is  imt 
the  man  to  i)e  at  home.  I  have  not  mist<- 
ed  liiin  out  of  the  office  a  single  day  (or 
five  yeMrs.' 

'  Pi  rhiips,'  ejaculated  Boh,  'he  has  bust 
hie  blood-vessel.' 

'  Then  it  is  all  up  with  him  ' 

'  Oh,  not  at  all,'  replied  Boh.  '  I  had 
an  aunt  who  liust  a, vessel,  and  she  lived 
a  losfj  time  afterwards.' 

'Now,  Boh,  no  moreg;enealop;y.  Take 
your  wiird  tor  it,  and  every  pot>sihle  mir 
raele  has  been  performed  in  your  family  ; 
and,  iiH  to  your  aunt,  doubtless  she  was  a 
pendulous  person,  and  her  blood  could 
flow  like  your  own  ink  ;  but,  jingo  !  if 
G.  G.  wore  to  burst  a  tube,  there  would 
be  a  jet  like  a  service-pipe.  But  here's 
Joseph.  Open  the  hatch,  or  Trotter,  the 
ancient,  will  hear  the  corks.  The  old 
Btory  .  the  cup  and  the  lip.  Somebody  is 
coming.' 

The  somebody  was  Mr.  Skipton,  an  ec- 
centric hrazier,  and  given,  among  other 
pecu'iitrities,  to  amateur  theatricals. 

'  Messrs.  Jones  and  Ogle,  I  do  myself 
the  honnrof  presenting  an  acconifptagainst 
your  eslahlishment  for  matters  furnished 
to  the  sl'ip  Minerva,  and  1  desire  payment 
thereof.' 

'  The  accompt  is  not  attested  by  the 
ca-ptuin,  and  we  can't  pay  it,'  said  Mr. 
Jones,  imitating  the  grimace  of  Mr.  Skip- 
ton. 

'  Do  you  take  me  for  a  common  mecha- 
nic?' 

'Unquestionably  we  do.' 

'I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Mr.  Jones  ;  were 
it  not  that  your  venerahle  employer  is 
presently  on  a  bed  of  languishiog  and 
mourning,  I  should  go  to  his  chateau  and 
represent  your  conduct  to  him.  You  do 
not  pay  it^sir,  not  because  it  wants  the 
Rign  manual  of  the  insignificant  ski[iyier, 
but  because  I  dec^lined  giving  you  my  in- 
fluence for  playing  the  part  of  Young 
JVorval. ' 

'  That  may  or  may  not  be,  Mr.  Skipton  ; 
tout  until  you  get  the  signature  the  ac- 
Cjmpt  can't  be  paid.' 

'Do  you  suppose, boy,  that  I  am  to  fol- 
low the  ship  to  Madagascar?' 

'  As  you  like  ;  you  slujuld  have  seen  it 
before  she  sailed  C)r  J^Iadagascar.  But 
excuse  us,  Mr.  Skipton,  we  are  rather  busy 
Uiis  morning.'  / 


'  Oh,  T  dare  say;  how  is  Mr  Grahan 
this  morning?' 

'  VVe  have  not  heard,'  said  the  impati- 
ent Mr.  Joues.  '  Will  you  go  away,  Mr. 
Skir>t..n?' 

'No.- 

'  W  hat  do  you  want  ?' 

'  A  share  of  the  plunder  ;'  and.  plr.ciog 
his  back  to  the  door,  he  added,  '  i  ll  wait 
here  till  1  get  it." 

'  Mr.  Skipton,  we'll  joke  when  the  of- 
fice is  shut,  but  excuse  us  just  now.' 

'  ]S()  joke,  gentlemen  ;  I  obscj-ved  you? 
envoy,  Joseph,  crossing  to  Jenny  Find- 
ley's.' 

'  Pooh  ;  he  went  over  with  some  empty 
bottles.' 

'  And  came  back  with  full  ones.  No 
equivocation,  gentlemen,  I  stand  here  for 
justice.' 

'  I  su[ipose  there  is  no  use  in  denying 
it,  Bob!' 

'  None.' 

The.  refreshments  were  accordingly  pro- 
duced and  discussed. 

'  I  always,'  said  Mr.  Skipton,  'carry 
some  old  accompts  in  my  hat;  they  are 
so  useful  when  one  enters  establishments 
and  unexpectedly  finds  principals.' 

'  And  so,'  said  the  amazi.d  Toni,  'you 
have  no  account  against  the  Minerva?' 

'  None  whatever,  young  man.', 

'  Well,'  said  Mr.  Jones,  '  I  owe  no  ill- 
will  to  G.  G.,  and  as  I  don  t  expect  he'll 
leave  us  anything,  tho'  he  does  kick — ' 

'  Speak  lor  yourselt.  Boh  ;  my  father 
and  Mr.  Graham  were  schoolfellows.' 

Mr.  Jones  put  his  thun»b  on  the  nassl 
membt-r,  and  pressed  that  again  inwards 
with  great  fervor. 

'  W  hat  will  he  do  with  h\8  possessions?' 
asked  Skipton. 

'  VVIiy,"  rejoined  Jones,  '  I  know  G.  G. 
as  well  as  most  peojile,  and  I  tliink  one  ol 
two  tilings  will  happen.  Either  that  he 
will  die  without  a  will,  like  his  father,  or 
leave  his  money  to  endow  an  hospital  for 
incurables,  or  some  such  thing  as  that.' 

'  But.'  interposed  Skipton,  '  he  hates 
long  John,  his  brother,  as  Satanus  hates 
bolv  water.  I  once  saw  theiu  meet — 
Norvnl  and  G/ena/oim  was  nothing  to  it. 
Depend  ujion  it  he^  will  make  a  testament 
to  do  his  goose.  He  is  a  very  low  indivi- 
dual, that  John,  and  stands  indebted, 
resting;  and  owing  me  four-and-fburpence 
sterling  for  a  coifi;e-pot,  and  sundry  re- 
pairs. 1  shall  have  asinall  debt-wiiri'anj 
out  against  bim  some  of  these  da\8.' 

'G.  G.'said  Mr.  Jones,  pursuing  a 
train  of  mental  reflection,  '  i.>^  a  very  civ 
rious  person  ;  he  goes  on  toiling  and  toil- 
ing for  nu)nev  for  no  earthly  purpose  that 
I  can  see.  He  does  not  care  for  houae, 
lands,  pictures,  eport,  ladies — ' 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


11 


•  Or  the  drama,'  adJed  Skipton. 

'  What  dues  he  live  fur  V 

'  Echo  asks,  for  whatT  answered  Skip- 
ton. 

'  I  pay  i.is  gardener  fifteen  shillings  a 
week  fur  looking  aftiT  his  flowers  and 
fruit.  [  never  s.iw  a  pink  in  his  hutton- 
hole,  and  when  his  fruit  is  in  season  he 
never  siid  '•  strawherrj"  to  nie,  or  to 
nny  other  hodj,  that  ever  I  heard  of.  It 
is  lost  money,  keeping  up  his  gardens.' 

'  Nothing  of  the  sort,'  said  Skipton  ;  '  I 
can  trace  some  of  the  sweetest  hours  of 
existenee  to  Godfrey's  orchard  anu  jiar- 
terres.  I  am  there  every  ni^lit,  and,  like 
Rohinson  Crusoe,  lord  of  all  that  1  sur- 
vey lie  has  two  sweet  maitls  besides 
old  Martha,  and  all  the  swains  in  the 
country  run  after  them.  When  Martha 
^oes  to  hed,  the  young  ladies  rise  and  go 
to  the  gariiens  to  meet  their  swains.  The 
•agricultural  mind  is  easily  friglitened, 
ami,  by  a  little  hallooing  and  shaking  of 
l»UHhes,  I  make  them  t>eliev<;  the  place  is 
hautite<l.  and  so  have  it  ail  to  myself.  I 
pluck  fruit  and  fl  twers.  skip  in  tlie  walks, 
eliiiih  trees,  loll  in  seats,  recite  or  sing, 
as  I  h  ive  a  mind.  And  always  when  I 
leave,  which  is  at  tip-toe  of  morning,  I 
give  Ladi/  Randolph's  soliloquy — 

'  "  Ye    w^O'ls   and    wilds,    whose  melancholy 
Accords  with  my  souPs  sadness."  ' 

'Marvellous!'  exclaimed  Mr.  Jones; 
'  and  do  ycm  never  meet  G.  G.  in  your 
peregrinations  V 

'  0(i(;e  or  twice  I  have,  hut  as  T  did  not 
relish  his  Mediterranem  countenartce,  1 
kejit  out  of  his  way.  Craigallan  is  quite 
a  favorable  resort  with  me  ;  and  I  hope 
Godfrey  will  live  for  a  long  time,  as  I  have 
an  idea  that  a  change  of  proprietors  w.ould 
entrench  on  my  jirerogatives.  Oh,  here 
comes  Grant,  the  lawyi-r's  clerk.  Well, 
y<mng  man,  (.iddressiMjj  the  new  entrant,) 
how  cm  you  reconcile  it  with  your  mas- 
ter's interests  to  be  gadding  abroad  at 
this  hour  <if  the  day  V 

'  Vi-ry  unprin'-ipled,  Mr.  Rinkin,' 
echoed  Jones.  '  Very  much  so,  indeed. 
I  am  ;is  fond  of  rela-K  iti  »n  as  my  neigh- 
bors, but  only  at  over- time.  There  is  a 
eancfjty  about  business  hours  whi<;h  I  al- 
ways respect.  My  const  ii.t  answer  to 
the  eariy-shvitting  coiutnitl' e  is:  Gentle- 
men, get  the  hours  shortened  if  you  can, 
but  resper    theiu   while  they  are  1  ing.' 

'  What  a  go!'  observed  Mr.  Rankin, 
witfi  his  eyes  pathetic.dly  turned  to  the 
ceiling;  'how  do  you  kno^v  that  I  have 
not  come  on  business  '' 

'  Impossible,"  answered  Mr.  .Jones  ;  '  so 
long  aa  you  were. with  Mr.  Burn  that  ex- 


cuse might  have  served,  as  we  occasional- 
ly employ  him.  But  y<mr  new  master, 
Ludovicko,  is  not  recojiidsed  in  our  estab- 
lishment. G.  G.  ordered  him  out  of  his 
sanctum  the  other  day,  and  gave  me  or- 
ders never  to  admit  him.  Wheti  you 
know  these  facts,  Mr.  R."  I  hope  you  will 
he  induired  not  to  call  here,  as  it  may 
place  us  in  a  delicate  position.  When  our 
G.  G.  hates  anybody,  he  extends  his  love 
to  every  one  connected  with  them.  Once 
I  caught  a  tight  blowing  up  for  showing 
some  civilities  to  his  brother  John's 
porter.' 

'  You  hear  Mr.  Jones's  oh.'iervations,  T 
apprehend,'  said  Mr.  Skipto,;,  '  and  I  beg 
\(m  will  withdraw.  I  shall  feel  quite  re- 
lieved by  your  alisence,  there  is  something 
so  low  in  the  society  of  lawyers  ;  and  as 
f  >r  your  employer,  his  head  is  too  big  and 
his  eyes  too  small  to  be  a  gentleman.' 

'  Are  you  done,  gentlemen  !'  asked  Mr. 
Rankin,  with  great  coolness.  '  If  you 
are,  it  is  my  turn  to  speak.  You  are  all 
wrong  ;  ami  if  I  were  not  so  dry,  I  would 
show  you  tliat  in  a  moment.  Are  you 
disposed  for  anything  beyond  milk  and 
water,  any  of  you  V 

'  I  beg  you  will  mention  nothing  of  the 
kind  in  these  premises,'  said  Mr.  Jones, 
with  great  solemnity. 

'  Why,  it  is  not  the  first  time,'  rejoined 
Mr.  Haiikin. 

'  Pn)balply  not,  but  we  have  turned 
over  a  new  leaf.' 

'  Besides,'  interposed  Skipton, '  I  would 
not  recommend  young  persons  connected 
with  the  law  to  have  anythmg  to  do  with 
alcoholic  mixtures.  It  leads  them  to  the 
commission  of  forgery,  and  then  they  are 
hanged,  an  I  bring  disgrace  on  all  their 
friends  and  kindred.  Tnere  was  Doctor 
D odds,  the  divine,  hanjred  for  forgery, 
and  Gd'ieroy.  the  hanker.  Take  care, 
young  man,  before  it  will  be  to(j  late.' 

'  Bah,  you  goose!  Hearken,  now— 
you  judge  of  us  fiy  your  own  greasy  trade. 
If  Siiipton  sells  an  old  woman  a  leaky 
tea-pot,  she  cuts  him  ;  but  if  you  are 
done  by  a  lawyer,  don't  you  employ  the 
same  lawyer  to  do  some  other  body,  you 
ninnies  V 

'  (jaminon!'  said  Jones. 

'  It's  that  sort  of  gammon,  that  Or*- 
kam  sent  fur  Grant  to  make  /us  will.' 

'  My  <lear  Mr.  Rmkin,  sit  down  and 
tell  us  all  about  it,'  sail  .Mr. Jones,  with 
the  utmost  suavity.  '  Pray  tell  us  all 
about  it,  and  con.sider  all  our  little  re- 
marks as  mere  jokes.  To  err  is  human, 
to  forgive  divine. 

'  C  itch  me  !  you'll  lie  more  civil  to  m« 
when  I  call  next  time.' 

S  tying  which,  Mr.  Rankin  made  a» 
ironical  bow  and  left  the  office. 


12 


(:ratgalla.n  castle. 


'  All  this,'  said  Jlr.  Jones, '  compsfrom 
jour  unfiirtunate  hdhit  of  joking,  Mr. 
Ogle.  I  have  told  you  from  first  to  last 
th»t  there  is  a  time  for  everything,  and 
businecs  first,  pleasure  afterwards." 

'  I,  Mr.  Junes  ?'  said  the  unfortunate 
Ogle  ;  '  I  have  not  opened  my  mouth  fur 
the  lust  half-hour  ;  but  it  is  just  as  my 
grandmother  said-  -' 

'  Oh.  yes,  your  grandmother !  you  told 
OS  before  that  your  grandmother  was  born 
with  an  alligator  s  head,  and  there  is  no 
use  ti-lling  us  about  it  again.' 

'  Mr.  Junes,'  said  Tom,  with  great  en- 
ergy, '  although  I  come  from  the  country, 
I  have  feelings,  and  I  will  not  be  insulted 
in  this  way.' 

Mr.  Jones  was  about  to  reply  sharply, 
when  Mrs.  Martha  Martin  made  her  ap- 
pearance, which  appearance,  by  stimulat- 
ing the  curiosity  of  the  three  friends,  had 
the  effect  of  preventing  an  angry  out- 
break. 

'  Step  in,  Mrs.  Martin,'  said  Mr.  Jones, 
with  great  cordiality  ;  '  we  are  all  so  glad 
to  see  you ;  and  how  is  your  rheumatism  ? 
not  affected,  I  trust,  by  these  cruel  east 
winds V 

'Oh,  Maister  Jones,  my  troubles  are 
but  a  sma'  matter.  Dear  nie,  and  him  in 
the  prime  o"  life  ! — but,  as  Mr.  Symington 
eaid  last  Sabbath,  naebody  kens  wha's 
turn  it  may  be  next.' 

'  Is  Mr.  Graham  so  very  ill  V 

'  Aye,  sir,  he's  very  ill.  I  spoke  to  the 
doctor  ahuut  him,  and  he  shook  his  head. 
Whaun  a  (^ctor  shakes  his  head,  Mr. 
Jones,  it's  a'  up  wi'  bis  patient.  I  mind 
Liddy  Girnigo ;  she  dwined  lang,  but 
whenever  the  doctor  shook  bis  head,  she 
was  a  corpse  the  very  next  nicht.' 

'  What  does  the  d(X!tor  say  is  the  mat- 
ter with  him,  Mrs.  Martin?' 

'  Na,    but    that  beats  me  ;  when    the 

doctor  shakes  his  head,  what  matter  is  it 

.  what  complaint  he  is  troubled  wi  1     If  he 

is  na"  to  hve,  what  needs  he  or  his  friends 

fash  themselves  about  his  ailment  V 

'  Douhtless,  Mrs.  Martin,  you  will  be 
'well  provided  tor.  You  have  h>ng  been  a 
faith 'ul  servant ;  and  you  at  home,  and 
Mr.  Trotter  here  in  the  counting-room, 
have  ke[)t  everything  right ;  and  if  any- 
body is  to  he  left  anything,  you  two 
must  come  in  for  shares.' 

'  Maybe  aye,  and  maybe  no.  I've  lived 
in  great  houses  where  deaths  took  place 
»fore,  and  never  found  myself  a  plack 
better.  When  folks  come  to  cross  the 
Jordan  they  have  ither  things  to  think 
about  than  legacies  ;  but  as  Mr.  Graham, 
honest  man,  has  sent  fur  a  lawyer,  doubt- 
lees  he'll  do  things  in  a  doose  way.' 

•  Was  Mr.  Grant  long  with  him  V 

'  Wha  tell't  you  that  Mr.  Grant  was 


wi'  him  ?  Sic  a  place  for  clasbefi  !  Th»t 
aye  comes  o'  having  young  hizzies  abu()t 
a  boose.  Ye  canna  tik  aff  your  carpet 
shoon  but  they  maun  be  clavering.  But 
as  I  have  to  tak  oot  some  physic,  1  canna 
stop  here  a  day.' 

*  Take  your  time,  Mrs.  Martin,'  con- 
tinued Mr.  Jones,  with  increasing  bland- 
ness.  '  You  know  that  if  you  walk  fast 
you  will  soon  lose  breath,  and  better, 
therefore,  take  a  good  rest.  Has  Mr. 
John  been  inquiring  after  him  V 

'  He  need  na.' 

'  No  ;  I  suppose  there  is  no  chance  of 
anything  going  in  that  quarter?' 

'  I  dinna  ken,'  answered  Mrs.  Martha, 
mysteriously.  '  There  is  no  saying  whaur 
a  plaister  may  licht ;  when  the  dirt  is  dry 
it  will  rub  off.  He  is  fond  o'  the  young 
lassie,  Suiah,  and  nae  wonder;  she  is  a 
sweet  bairn.' 

'  You  astonith  me,  Mrs.  Martin.  1 
thought  he  would  not  allow  that  girl  to 
come  near  bim.  I  know  that  I  have  heen 
told  to  tell  her  that  he  wbs  engaged  when 
she  called  here.' 

'  That  may  be  ;  but  he's  fond  o'  her 
noo,  that's  certain.' 

'  VV  hat  a  pity  she  is  so  young  !' 

'  Oh,  you  black-hearted  ne'er-do-weel ! 
You  re  like  a'  the  men.  Whenever  a  fiuir 
lassie  is  thoeht  to  hae  siller,  she  is  hunted 
like  a  partridge  in  the  mountains,  by  a 
set  o"  villains  thatwadna  gie  her  a  penny 
to  buy  a  loaf  if  she  was  starvin'.  Nae 
wonder  that  there  are  so  many  unhappy 
marriines.  When  I  was  a  young  woman, 
it  was  marry  for  love  and  work  for  silver  ; 
but  lack-a-day  !  times  are  sorely  changed 
now  ' 

'  Mrs.  tfartha,'  said  Skipton,  '  in  Par- 
liamentary phraseology,  I  have  for  some 
time  been  trying  to  uateh  your  eye,  but 
without  (fleet.' 

'  I  have  a  craw  to  pluck  wi'  you,  Mr. 
Skipton.  Your  milk  pitcher  is  letting  out 
already.' 

'  Don't  interrupt  the  sentimental  turn 
of  the  conversation  by  shop  allusions,  my 
dear  madam.  Send  it  in  first  market-day 
and  111  put  it  to  rights.  I  intended  call- 
ing on  you  some  of  these  nights ;  but  as 
there  is  "distress  in  the  castle,  I  must  post- 
pone my  visit.' 

'  Call  on  me,  Mr.  Skipton?  that  will 
do.'  responded  Mrs.  Martf  a,  with  a  grin. 
'  What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Jones  ?  He 
cam  out  last" week  and  palavered  wi'  me, 
and  got  his  tea,  and  wad  hardly  stop  to 
tak  a  glass  o'  nsberry  vinegar  wi'  me,  for 
fear,  as  he  said,  that  his  mither  would 
miss  him.  Well,  believe  me  if  you  like, 
hut  about  twa  o'clock  in  the  morning  I 
heard  an  awful  din  at  the  back  of  the 
castle,  and  I  went  roun  to  ane  o'  (h« 


(jkaiqallan  castle. 


u 


winuers,  and  there  was  hini  dancing  wi'  a 
white  bheet  ahdut  tiiiu,  and  our  twa  lua- 
dam8,  and  a  wheen  mair  claiujamphrey, 
ekirliiij;  and  Itiufiing  like  show-iolk.  But 
I  ttiink  I  gie  cht-m  up  their  feet.  My 
oertie  !  thi-y've  sleepit  under  lock  and  key 
ever  since.' 

'  My  dear  Mrs.  M  irtin,  I  grieve  to  think 
of  my  hwiiig  the  innocent  cause  of  any 
emharj^a  heing  put  on  the  maidens.' 

'  O.'i,  i  dare  say  I' 

'Yiiu  are  quite  rij;ht,  Mrs.  M  irtin. — 
Ski(itoa  is — liillo  !  here's  tlie  carriige — 
stop  !  I'hr-re  8  Grant,  the  lawyer,  and, 
by  jingo  !  nut  possible — yes!  it  ts  G.  G. 
himselt,  muffled  to  the  very  nose." 

'Stive  and  guide  us  !'  ejiicultted  Mrs. 
Martha,  and  lorthwith  touk  out  bottles 
and  all  s'Mts  of  sinidries  fr.im  her  biisket; 
Skipton  repr')ducod  the  account  ag.iinst 
the  Minerna ;  Oglo  mended  his  pen  ;  and 
Jones  iuriously  drev?  out  a  bill  of  lad- 
ing 


CHAPTER  IV. 

In  a  dingy  street  in  Panlton  stood  the 
dwellinn-h'Mise  of  John  Graliam.  Mean- 
like  ill  its  exterior  Jispeet,  it  was  dismal 
within,  ttie  sm  dl  lobby  w;is  dark,  and 
haU  l'>ng  be«'n  a  stranger  to  [)aintor  pi- 
per ;  the  rtoius  were  low-roofed,  and  the 
furniture  scanty  and  old-f.w  lioned.  It 
had  not  the  air  of  a  pea-sant  hut,  where, 
notwithstanding  evident  poverty,  there  is 
a  freshness  of  look  an<i  cheerfulness  whic;h 
bespeak  the  inmates  as  pleased  and  happy 
with  their  huiulile  accommodation.  In 
John's  parl'T  tiere  was  a  dilapidated 
piano,  a  broken  side-board,  a  heavy  ma- 
hog.iny  table,  surmounted  with  a  faded 
preen  cover,  and  eight  ch.iirs  of  varied 
patterns.  A  hui^e  grate,  Tiot  built  into 
the  chimney,  contained  a  smoky  tire  not 
required  by  the  season,  but  evidently  for 
cooking  ;  and  opp  isite  theiinijainly  chim- 
ney-pi<^<;e  sat  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graham.  The 
husband  looked  hagganl  and  care-worn, 
and  the  wife  cross  and  fieevish.  After  a 
long  silence,  tne  spouse  aeked  rather 
tartly. — 

'  What  are  we  to  do  V 

John  ij;ave  no  answer  ;  and  the  ques- 
tion beinjt  rffpeat<id,  he  sulkily  replied — 

*  How  should  I  know?" 

'  I  wisii  I  had  never  seen  you.' 

'  You  have  told  me  that  olten  enough 
before  ' 

'  W»fll  is  it  not  more  than  flesh  and 
blood  can  stand,    that  I    should   have  to 


get  a  morsel  of  meat  this  night  I  know 
not  ' 

'  I  know  all  that  already  ;  so  don't  drive 
me  mad  by  crooning  over  things  that 
can't  be  helped.  I  have  heaid  of  wives 
who  bore  up  their  sinking  husbands  in 
evil  times  ;  but  you  do  all  you  can  to 
keep  me  down.' 

;^  And  is  it  not  hard  that  my  sisters  at 
home  should  be  living  in  pt-ace  and  plen- 
ty, and  I  in  this  state?  It  »aa  a  black 
day  when  [  became  your  wife.' 

'  You  and  your  sisters  thought  it  a 
good  match  at  the  time  ;  and  you  have 
hiid  your  luck,  as  others  have  had  before 
you.  .\nd  when  you  tliink  of  your  family 
does  it  never  occur  to  you  th.it  whilst  I 
sit  here  in  poverty  Godfrey  is  living  in  a 
castle,  and  wallowing  in  thousands.' 

'  You  did  not  behave  fairly  to  Godfrey  ; 
and  you  see  what  has  come  of  it.' 

At  this  remark  John  became  greatly 
incensed,  and  cleuching  bis  list,  struck  the 
table  in  great  fury. 

*  Mary,'  said  he,  gnashing  his  teeth, 
'  this  is  intolerable.  You  counselled  me 
to  undermine  Godfrey  with  my  father ; 
your  cursed  ambition  miide  you  long  to  be 
mistress  of  a  castle  ;  and  not  one  lie  vfOM 
hatched  that  you  did  not  know  of.' 

In  any  ordinary  conversation  Mrs.  Gra- 
ham would  have  maintaint^d  the  argu- 
ment ;  but  when  the  choler  of  her  hus- 
band was  fiirly  roused  she  knew  that 
backbiting  WiU»  useless.  She,  therefore' 
added,  in  a  more  subdued  tone — 

'  It  does  not  matter  how  we  have  been 
ruined  ;  ruined  we  are,  and  something 
must  he  dcme.' 

'  I  know  not  what  to  do,'  replied  John, 
despairingly. 

'  Try  your  brother  again.' 

"I  cannot  do  it.  Three  times  ha?o  I 
been  bankrupt ;  and  each  time  he  has 
paid  my  compositions.  Last  time  I  failed 
he  told  me  that  I  must  get  into  some 
situ.ition,  as  I  was  evidently  until  for  bu- 
siness and  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
assist  me  no  more  if  I  again  went  wrong 
from  speculation.  I  could  not  get  into 
any  situation.' 

*  Y<m  did  not  try  very  hard.' 

'  My  pri'le  would  not  alK>w  me  ;  but  if 
it  had,  fteoplo  sneered  at  me,  and  said 
that  one  who  could  not  do  well  for 
hiiuself  could  not  do  well  for  any  other 
body.  Gitd  is  my  witness,  I  have  often 
done  ill  ;  but  as  often  have  I  been  willing 
to  do  well,  but  never  could  find  the  op- 
portunity. 1  am  doomed,  and  how  I  can- 
not tell  When  others  prospered,  I  have 
been  unfortunate  ;  adventures  v^hich  al- 
ways turned  well  out  when  my  father  wa» 


live  this  way  ?     We  owe  the   baker,    the 

butcher,  and   the  grocer ;  and  wheie  to  alive,  and  when  I  did  not  want  monej* 


14 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


SuiTe  failed  when  I  would  hiive  been 
thankful  t'>  raise  a  few  pounds  to  pay 
house  rent.' 

'  Ours  is  a  hard  ca«e,'  continued  ^Irs 
Graliaiu,  still  kffping  to  \wt  own  line  of 
remark.  '  I  liave  parted  with  ever}'  trin- 
ket, chains,  hrodclu-s,  and  everything  ex- 
cept my  marriage-ring,  and  it  must  go 
nest,  i  suppose.' 

'  There  s  somebody  at  the  door,'  said 
her  husband. 

Mrs.  Graham  answered  to  the  sum- 
mons, and  came  back  wringing  her 
bunds. 

'  It  is,'  said  she,  '  the  collector  of  the 
water-rate  ;  and  he  says  he  has  called  so 
often  that,  if  nut  paid  to-morrow,  the 
pipe  will  be  cut  «)ff.  That  would  have 
been  had  enough  at  any  lime  ;  but  now 
that  we  have  parted  with  our  servant  we 
shall  be  in  a  pretty  state.' 

'  This  is  indeed  misery,'  said  John. 

*I  have  it  I'  said  his  wife.  '  Go  to 
Godfrey,  and  tell  kim  that  if  he  will  pay 
your  debts  for  this  once  you  will  emigrate, 
and  trouble  him  no  more.' 

'  And  where  can  we  emigrate  to?  If 
we  are  to  starve,  die  and  rot,  why  not  do 
it  here  as  well  as  in  AmericaV 

'  We  can  work  there  with  our  hands, 
and  we  can't  do  that  here.' 

'  But  I  cannot  speak  to  Godfrey.' 

'  It  is  our  last  shift,  and  you  must  do 
it.' 

'  T  tell  you,  woman,  I  cannot  do  it.' 

'  Well,  Sarah  will  do  it  for  you.' 

'  Yes,'  rejoined  John,  with  a  deep 
gneer,  'and,  like  a  beggar,  be  dismissed 
with  another  sovereign.' 

'  John  Graham,  that  sovereign  was 
kindly  meant,  and  kept  our  house  for  a 
week,  and  I  only  wish  that  I  had  another 
this  night.' 

'  What  a  dignified  spirit  you  have  got !' 

'  When  one  has  the  prospe(;t  of  going 
supperlesa  to  bed,  they  can  aifurd  to  drop 
their  dignity.' 

At  this  juncture  Sarah  entered  the 
room.  Perceiving  her  parents  to  be  in  a 
mood  that  was  by  lu)  means  uncommon, 
she  quietly  went  up  to  tlie  j)iano,  opened 
the  case,  and  proceeded  to  practice  one  of 
her  music-lessons. 

'  Stop  that  ird'ernal  humming  !'  stiid  her 
father  harshly. 

Poor  Sarah  !  she  had  that  day  been 
kept  in  at  school  for  not  bning  aUe  to 
play  over  her  lessoiis,  and  tliat  from  no 
fault  of  hers  ;  for  at  previous  times,  as  on 
this  occasion,  she  was  not  allowed  to 
piactise.when  her  father  whs  in  bail  hu- 
mor. In  how  many  forms  is  the  Eg\p- 
tian  tyranny  of  bricks  without  straw  en- 
acted in  this  miserable  world  !     Without 


one  word  of  remonstrance    Surah   gently 

closed  the  instrument  and  sat  down  in  a 
corner.  The  luxury  of  a  sob  was  denied 
her,  as  her  fitlu-r  w;ts  irritable  to  extreme 
sensitiveness  ;  and  vthen  the  demon  pos- 
sessed him,  the  slightest  sound  touched 
him  to  the  very  quick.  Sarah  kmw  this 
well,  and  tried  hard  to  sujipress  the  rising 
tear,  although  it  was  the  only  means  ol 
relieving  a  very  heavy  heart.  .Another 
cause  of  grief  she  had,  but  she  dared  not 
express  it.  As  slie  was  ordered  by  the 
assistant  teacher  into  the  penal  apartment 
adjoining  the  school-room,  the  priiuipal 
ironically  remarked,  and  loud  enough  to 
he  heard  by  all  around,  '  that  there  y,ns 
no  use  taking  much  trouble  with  the  girl, 
as  the  last  two  quarters  had  noi  heen 
paid.'  Sirah  could  have  borne  the  in- 
sertion of  a  knife  into  her  T)osoni  sooner 
than  that  cruel  taunt.  Of  all  kinds  of 
sufferers  youthful  sufferers  are  the  most 
helpless.  When  calamity  overtakes  one 
in  middle  or  biter  life  they  can  command 
sympathy  from  former  companions,  or 
they  can  summon  philosophy  to  their  aid  ; 
but  when  misery  marks  a  child  as  its 
own  it  has  neither  the  one  resource  Ivor 
the  other. 

John  Graham  did  not  dislike  his  daugh- 
ter, neither  did  his  wife,  although  she 
wotild  have  greatly  preferred  that  her 
only  child  had  been  of  the  opposite  sex. 
Worldly  crosses,  however,  had  so  soured 
both  her  parents,  that  Sarah  hardly  knew 
tlie  meaning  of  parental  affection  Pov- 
erty, she  had  the  sense  to  perceive,  was 
at  the  bottom  of  all  their  unhappiness  ; 
and,  having  no  idea  that  any  blame  waa 
attachable  either  to  father  or  mother, 
{)ity  for  them  was  generally  the  upper- 
most feeling  in  her  nature. 

After  another  interval  of  silence,  Mrs. 
Graham  again  took  up  the  harp  ol  lam 
entation. 

'  Everything,'  said  she,  '  is  against  us 
Had  we  had  a  boy,  he  would  soon  have 
been  (iff  our  hands,  and  doing  for  himself; 
but  a  girl  is  alwavs  in  the  road,  moping 
about  the  house,  and  good  for  nothing  in 
eve-ry  way.' 

'  Don't  say  that,  mother,'  answered 
Sarah,  tremblingly  ;  '  now  that  Betty  hiia 
left  us,  I  will  stop  at  home  and  help  you. 
I  do  not  care  f<ir  going  to  school.' 

'  I  dare  say  not ;  you  are  an  idle  hus- 
sey,  and  want  to  stop  at  home  to  get  rid 
of  your  lessons.' 

Sarah  coidd  not  stand  this;  she  hid 
her  face  in  her  hands,  and,  weping  bit- 
terly, exclaimed — 

'Oh,  mother,  if  you  knew  what  MiiH 
Thom  said  to-day,  you  wjuld  not  oiasM 
me.' 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


IS 


In  most  a|se3.  a  daughter's  tears  open 
the  heart  otthe  lather,  juat  as  the  sun's  j 
first    touch  that   of  the    iiiutlier.     John  l 
Grahaiii,  accordint^lj',   itiquiivd  as  to  the  j 
natiu-e   of  Miss    L'hom's  8a;yin>j;.     On  Sa- 
rali    inforiaiiig  them  of    what  had  taken  I 
place,  the  f  tther  thought  of  her  wounded  I 
feeliii;fs,  and  the  mother  of  the  poverty  of 
the  family    heiiij;  noised    abroad.     After 
another  long    pause,  John  turned  to  Sa- 
rah and  asked  if  she  would  carry  a  mes- 
Baiie    t(»    her  uncle.     Sarah  joyluUy    said 
that  she  would  he  glad  to  do  so. 

'  But,'  said  her  father,  '  it  is  rather  a 
disai^reeahle  message,  Sarah  ' 

♦  No  had  news,  I  hope?' 

'  No,  it  is  to  ask  him  a  favor,' 

'  I  am  sure  I  shall  he  glad  to  do  tliat, 
fatlior  ;  uncle  is  so  kind,  I  could  ask  hiui 
anything.' 

'  I  am  afraid  you  are  very  simple,  Sa- 
rah, so  notice  what  I  say,  and  try  to  un- 
derstand me.  Your  mother  and  I  are  poor, 
very  poor,  Sirah  ;  we  have  no  money  to 
pay  for  yt>ur  school  fees,  nor  for  anytliing 
else.  You  will  therefore  go  to  Craigallan, 
and  tell  your  uncle  that  if  he  will  ho  kind 
en(»ugh  to  ffive  us  as  much  money  as  will 
take  us  t(»  .Viaerica,  it  the  last  tiiue  that 
ever  we  shall  r,roul)le  him.  Do  you  uu- 
derstan'f  me,  Sarah  ?' 

'  1  think  I  do.' 

'  Yi)U  s-e  we  have  troubled  him  often 
before,  hut  we  do  not  intend  doing  it 
again  ;  and  say,  also,  that  you  are  very 
wretched  and  that  often,  as  to-night, 
you  have  to  go  to  bed  without  getting  any 
thing  to  eat.' 

'  [  don't  care  for  myself,  l)ut  I  II  tell 
him  how  unhappy  you  and  mother  are.' 

'  You  need  not  tell  him  that,  he  does 
not  like  us  ;  hut  tell  hiia  how  unhappy 
ycm  yourself  are  ;  and  as  he  seems  fond  of 
you,  ho  will,  for  your  sake,  do  something 
tor  the  whole  of  us.' 

'  If  uncle  does  not  like  you,  then  I  can- 
not like  hiiu  ;  and  I  would  rather  not  go, 
d.:,ar  father,  if  1  am  to  speak  about  nobody 
but  myseli'.' 

'  Leave  it  to  lierself  to  do  any  way  she 
thinks  host,'  said  the  mother,  who  saw 
that  the  secret  of  Sarah's  success  with 
Godfrey  l.iy  in  her  ingenuousness,  and 
that  if  she  but  understood  that  he  al  >ne 
could  help  them  out  of  their  dilBcukies, 
Siirah  could  find  ways  and  means  to  carry 
the  point. 

This  being  settled,  this  singular  family 
proposed  to  retire  Uj  rest,  it  hein<^  a  fea- 
ture which  the  aimals  of  the  po<ir  would 
develope,  if  ii^ipiiredinto,  that  all  persons 
•4'?cderly  jirovisioiied  go  early  to  hod,  as 
they  are  thus  enabled  to  sleep  utf  a  part 
•f  their  hunger.     The  Grahams,  however, 


were  not  destined  to  worship  the  leader 
god  at  the  early  hour  they  had  fixed  OU; 
f)r  another  knock  was  heard  at  the  d<>or. 
It  remained  unanswered,  for  both  hus- 
band and  wife  felt  that  as  they  had  come 
to  a  sort  of  understanding  as  to  the  mean* 
of  relief  to  be  pursued,  it  was  a  pity  to 
disturl)  their  newly  acquired  equanimity 
by  having  to  answer  the  demand  of  some 
new  creditt)r.  I'he  knocking  accordingly 
went  on  unheeded,  and  would  have  con- 
tinued so,  but  the  intruder  having  fiilcd 
at  the  door,  now  assailed  the  window. 
John  pulled  back  the  shutters,  threw  up 
thesish,  and  called  out — 
'  Who's  there?' 

'  It  is  me,'  said  Mrs.  Martha  Martin. 
Sarah  at  once  recognised  the  voice,  and 
having  apftrised  her  father  and  mother 
who  Mrs.  Martha  was,  the  visit  was  pro- 
nounced of  good  omen,  and  the  docir  was 
it  once  opened.  Mrs.  Graham  muttered 
something  about  the  absence  of  her  ser- 
vant. 

'  I  jaloused  that,  mem,'  said  Mr*. 
Martha,  '  and  that  made  me  try  the 
window.  In  town  or  country  its  a'  the 
same.  Idle  sluts !  ye  canna  turn  your 
back,  but  they  are  after  souje  o'  their 
black  roads.  \e  see.  Miss  Sarah  tolled 
me  that  ye  had  had  nae  hotch-potch  this 
year  ;  and  as  we  hae  mair  vegclahlns  at 
the  Castle  than  we  can  make  use  of,  I 
brought  in  some.' 

'  They  will  be  a  perfect  treat,'  said  Mrs. 
Graham  ;  '  and  we  are  so  much  obliged. 
We  are  all  fond  of  hotch-potch  ;  \mt  the 
market  veg<^tal>lt;s  are  so  rsmk  iind  bitter 
we  never  tiiink  of  buying  them.' 

'  Yes,  mem,'  said  Martha;  '  and  I  also 
called  to  say  that  Mr.  Graham,  puir  man, 
is  very  ill.  The  doctor  saw  him  in  the 
morninti,  and  he  was  very  bad  tiien,  and 
I  cam'  in  for  some  medirine  .  but  instead 
o'  waitin'  till  I  came  out,  like  a  wi«e  body, 
ho  cam'  into  town  hiiii.sor,.and  him  half 
dead,  and  be  has  been  awfid  ill  since  he 
cam'  out  again.  I  came  in  wi'  the  coach, 
to  tell  the  doctor  to  come  out  as  fast  aa 
he  could.  And  as  the  vegetables  were 
ready,  I  f)rocht  them  in.' 

'  Indeed,'  said  Mrs.  Graham,  '  is  he  so 
ill  as  all  that?  we  are  so  sorry.  W^hat 
do  you  think  lias  been  the  matter  witij 
him  ?' 

'  I  dinna  kt-n,  mem  ;  l)ut  1  think  there 
is  something  upon  his  mind.' 

'Sirih,'  saiii  John,  'you  must  go  out 
to-nmrrow,  ;ind  Cill  for  your  uni-le.'< 

*  She  11  no  be  able  to  see  him,  sir,'  said 

Martlia,  '  lor  the  doctor  forbade  anybody 

but  the  nurse,  or  Mr.  Grant,  the  lawyer, 

to  see  him.' 

'  Mr.   Grant,  the  lawyer  !'  said  Joho 


10 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE 


flomewliHfc  troubled  ;  '  he  is  only  newly  I 
cojue  to  town,  and  huw  can  he  kntiw  j 
about  hini  ?  My  hiotlitT  is  net  jjeneriiliy  ' 
in  the  habit  ol  making  uj)  with  stran- 
ge"-' .  I 

'  No  sir,  that  he  is  n)t;  and  this  Mr. 
Grant  called  one  day  of  his    ain  accord, ; 
mad  Mr.  (Irahani  was  vfrv  anurry  with  hiin 
knd  gave  me  particular  orders  not  to  let  i 
him  in   again.     But  win-never  he  turned  ■ 
UDWi#!,  he  si-nt  fur  Grant  the  first  thing  ; ' 
and  he  was  in  the  carriage  witli  him    this  , 
very  nicht.     But  maun  awa  ;   the  coach  : 
will  be  on  the  road  Wdo  trmu  the  doctor's  ; 
and  I  am  guun  to  I'ide  hame  on  the  dic- 
key.    Good  nicht.' 

'  Go  )d  night,  Mrs.  JIartin,  and  we  are 
very  much  obliged  to  you,'  replied  Mrs.  j 
Graham,  closing  the  door. 

Martha's  viands  wen-  in  part  discussed  , 
ftat   evening.      The    husband    and    wife; 
ooHversed  apart,  that  they  might  not  be 
heard  by  S;trah.  I 

*  Our  usual  luck  !'  snid  Jyhn.  '  Extra-  i 
ordinary  chances  occurring,  and  after  all,  I 
Bothing  coming  of  them.  G<tdfrey  looks  j 
as  life-like  as  me,  and  more  so  ;  and  yet 
is  he  wry  ill,  by  all  accounts.  But  catch 
him  die  intestate  !  Tl^e  first  thing  he 
does  is  tu  send  for  that  lawyer,  Grant, 
wh<tm  he  had  quarrelled  with  only  the 
day  before.  Of  alkmen  in  the  world,  that 
man  is  the  worst  man  for  us  that  could 
be  cliosen.  In  order  to  get  business,  he 
has  been  undertaking  to  collect  all  the 
bad  debts  in  town,  and  mine  among  the 
rest,  lie  met  me  yesterday,  and  told  me 
that  if  I  did  not  pay  Dips,  the  grocer,  he 
would  thri-iw  me  into  jirison.  "  VV^hat 
would  you  make  by  that  ?  '  said  T.  "  Of 
course,'"  replied  the  scoundrel.  "  I  would 
have  to  do  so  fur  a  few  weeks,  by  which 
time  your  brother  Godfrey,  ashamed  of 
the  disgrace  of  having  his  brothij  in  gaol, 
would  pay  tiie  amount.'"  Now,  suppus- 
ing  G>'dhey.  were  proposing  to  leave  a 
email  h-gacy,  or  annuity,  or  anything  of 
that  kind,  to  poor  Sarah,  Grant  is  just  the 
sort  of  man  to  prevent  him.' 

'  It  is  all  up  with  us,'  said  Mrs.  Gra- 
ham. '  If  he  die,  we  8lian"t  get  money  to 
emigrate  ;  and  if  he  live.  Grant  will  put 
you  in  prison,  and  that  will  sour  him.' 

'Bah  I"  rejoined  hergende  spouse,  'you 
are  always  [irophesying  evil.' 

Tlie  poor  woman  only  reflected  his  own 
bla(;k  forebodings,  but  consistent  man  is 
sometimes  displeased  when  this  process 
take«p  place. 


CHAPTER  V. 

After  Godfrey  Graham  left  his  niece  in 
IIm  manner  described  in  a  previous  chap- 


ter, he  walkeil  about  amongjjt  some  re- 
mote j)lant.ition8.  Soon  night  began  to 
fall,  and,  after  a  short  interval  of  semi 
d  rkness,  the  moon  rose  colil  and  clear 
and  bathed  hike  and  tr^e  in  silver  variance 
SHiitini'-ntalists  often  talk  about thesooth 
ing  influence  t>f  nature  ;  but  they  are 
wmng,  and  mistake  cause  for  effect. 
When  one  is  in  a  tranquil  mood,  we  are 
capalile  of  recognising  and  a)'preciating 
the  sedative  aspect  of  nature,  and  exter- 
nal tranquillity  reacts  on  nientid  serenity, 
and  enliances  the  chastened  state  of  feel- 
ing ;  hut  when  man  is  the  victim  of  strong 
and  rending  emntinns,  no  landscape  will 
ever  be  able  tohush  the  storu),  and  cause 
it  to  be  still.  Mind,  not  matter,  must  do 
that.  At  least  this  was  the  experience 
of  Godfrey  Graham.  The  luminary  of 
night  momentarily  attracted  his  attention 
as  it  ploughed  its  way  through  the  sable 
fitJds  of  the  sky,  hut  it  was  only  for  a 
ujoment,  and  he  agon  returned  and  sat 
down  in  the  same  ar'iiT  where  he  had 
been  during  the  early  jiart  of  the  evening. 
It  was  one  of  those  chill  nights  which  in 
our  climate  succeed  a  warm  day.  Bef"ore 
feverishly  hot,  Godfrey  now  liecame  fever- 
islily  cold.  A  clammy  sweat  broke  out 
upnn  him,  his  teeth  chattered  and  his 
hones  seemed  to  freeze  in  their  sockets. 
He  rose  to  retire  for  tiie  night,  but  found 
his  limbs  unwilling  to  perform  their  office; 
after  a  desperate  eff()rt  he  contrived  to 
reach  the  castle,  and  net  into  his  b«d- 
chamb''T.  Sick  and  exhausted,  he  flung 
himself  down  on  the  floor,  but  slumber 
refused  to  relieve  his  wcrv  eyes.  One 
reverie  would  show  him  Mary  looking  at 
him  with  the  maddened  eye  of  a  raving 
maniac,  then  an  uneasy  interval  of  stupor, 
and  then  she  would  ajrain  re-appear,  and 
cast  him  a  h)ok  of  mild  reproach.  Shut 
or  open  his  eyes,  turn  tl.em  to  right  or 
left,  there  was  the  injured  woman.  To 
wards  morning  a  little  sleep  was  (obtained, 
but  on  waking  he  found  himself  in  great 
pain,  and  excessively  weak.  Mrs.  Martin 
was  alarmed  at  hijj  a[>{>ear!inc.e,  and  up- 
braided him  for  not  going  to  bed,  and 
also  tor  not  calling  her  ;  and  she  urged 
upon  him  the  necessity  of  calling  medical 
assistance.  Godfrey  had  never  consulted 
a  medical  man  in  his  life  ;  but,  yielding 
to  the  solicitations  of  Martha,  a  physician 
was  sent  for. 

In  due  time  Dr.  Anthony  Fitzgibbon 
made  his  appearance.  As  a  matter  of  course 
he  was  dressed  in  black,  had  a  stich,  a 
gold  watch  with  a  seconds  ditil,  and  a 
mysterious  look.  lie  sat  down  by  the 
bed-side  of  his  patient,  observed  his  pros- 
trate appearance,  felt  his  pulse,  put  hi| 
ear  to  the  left  side  of  the  chest  (th« 


CRATGALLAN  CASTLE. 


17 


•tethoscope  was  not  yet  invented),  then 
boaUoning  Martlia  to  the  outsile  uf  the 
chamber,  he  asked  her  if  Mr.  (Jr  ihaiu  liad 
any  ndati  uis  in  the  Imiise.  On  heitij^  an- 
swered in  the  negitivo,  he  inquired  if 
they  eould  nut  he  sent  fur,  and  on  heing 
inf  Tilled  aa  to  the  inipraoticiCliility  ot 
that  course  he  cogitated  ibr  a  few  mo- 
ments. 

'  Is  Mr.  Graham  very  ill?'  asked  the 
anxi  lus  Martha. 

The  leei;h  shook  his  head. 

'  Anything  serious,  dniDorl' 

Again  the  oracle  made  the  horizontal 
motion. 

'  My  goodness  gracious  me !'  said  Mar- 
tha. '  I  thought  as  much  when  L  saw  his 
blue  look.' 

I'he  doctor  returned  to  the  sick  man 
alone,  and  after  carefully  closing  the 
door,  he  resumed  his  seat  at  the  hedsi<ie. 
He  expected  that  the  patient  would  bi'(;ak 
the  ice  ;  but  of  tliat  there  heing  no  ap- 
pearance, and  knowing  that  he  had  to 
visit  Mrs.  Hayes,  the  grocer  s  wife,  at 
twelve  o'clock,  who  was  '  nervish,'  he 
was  obliged  to  open  the  conversation  him- 
self. 

'  I  am  afraid,  sir,  that  you  arc  very  ill 
— very  ill  ' 

'  1  !•  el  unwell,'  muttered  Godfrey. 

A  pause. 

'  I  am  not  accustomed  to  He  in  bed,' 
resumed  the  patient  '  and  I  would  rather 
that  you  used  active  remedies.' 

The  physician  smiled  gravely,  and 
shook  his  head. 

"Active  remedies  in  your  case,  Mr. 
Graham,  would  only  accelerate  a  fatal 
result.' 

'  fhen  any  way  you  like. 

"  It  is  extremely  distressing,  sir,  but  it 
is  best  to  be  candid.  I  really  can  do  no- 
thing for  you.  You  are  laboring  under 
an  organic  affectiim,  wliieli  has  been 
brouijht  to  a  crisis  by  your  unfortunate 
exposure  last  night.' 

'  You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  am 
dying.' 

'  Disease  has  been  going  on  in  the 
heart  for  a  considerable  tiwie.  The  issue 
may  be  lontjer  or  shorter  by  a  few  mnnths, 
but  a  fatal  determination  must  be  lottked 
for  ;  and  as  it  may  be  sudden,  I  hope  you 
will  excuse  me  in  suggesting  that  if  you 
have  any  affiirs  that  require  settling,  they 
should  receive  your  imiiieiiiate  atten- 
tion . ' 

Death  is  a  terrible  tiling,  but  it  is  not 
equally  terrible  to  all.  To  the  young 
with  hopes  and  f  ars  centred  in  the  I'u 
ture,  it  is  an  awtul  object ;  and  to  all 
who  have  schemes  umlevelnped,  and  platis 
unexecuted,  and  jiassions  unsatiated,  it  is 


;ilso  appalling ;  but  to  those  who  have 
travers -d  the  round  of  worldly  things, — 
who  have  cast  the  dice  and  found  no- 
tliing,  whose  aims  liave  been  blasted,  win) 
see  l)ef(ire  them  in  >untains  of  diiliculty 
that  cannot  be  removed — on  sucli  Death 
has  little  power  ;  they  would  not  live  al- 
ways, and  they  are  cntent  to  go.  God 
frey  Graham  had  nothing  to  live  for,  and 
therefore  was  not  unwilling  that  the  mor- 
tal coil  should  be  shuffled  off.  Ufa  here- 
after he  did  not  think  ;  people  wh)  do 
not  think  of  that  during  life  often  ouiit  to 
do  so  when  eternity  casts  its  shadows  l)e- 
fore.  He  rapidly  thi)Ught  of  the  destina- 
tion of  his  pro|ierty,  should  he  die  with- 
out making  some  proper  settlement. — 
Mary  might  become  a  pau|)er  lunatic,  her 
child  and  his  child  a  beggar,  while  Jnhn, 
his  brother  John,  would  inherit  all  ;  and 
the  last  thought  stung  him  to  the  quiox, 
and  determined  him  to  instant  decision 
He  accordingly  sent  for  Ludovicko. 

That  worthy  was  giving  orders  for  the 
incarcerati(m  of  John  when  the  message 
arrived.  As  was  his  wont,  he  turned 
over  in  his  mind  the  probable  bearings  cf 
the  approaching  interview  on  th«  matter 
in  hand.  The  message  was  a  verbal  one, 
brought  by  a  porter,  so  that  he  could 
make  nothing  of  the  messenger  ;  but  act- 
ing with  his  ha'iitual  caution,  he  desired 
Rankin  to  del  ly  diligence  till  his  return. 
Ludovicko  then  set  out  for  Craigallan, 
and,  on  being  introduced,  Godfrey  at  once 
pr<»ceeded  to  business.  , 

'  The  doctor,  Mr.  Grant,  says  that  I 
.am  very  unwell  ;  I  cannot  believe  him, 
but,  to  gu;ird  against  contingencies,  I 
have  resolved  on  settling  my  afffirs  so  aa 
to  priwide  for  Mary  and  her  child.' 

'  Mr.  Graham,  you  are  in  that  acting 
as  you  always  do,  with  the  most  perfect 
good  sense — on  that  point  most  em- 
phatic. ' 

'  Do  not  interrupt  me  with  unmeaning 
compliments  ;  I  sent  t<)r  ycm  because  my 
settlement  will  be  peculiar,  and  I  know 
that  you  will  do  what  others  will  not 
do.' 

Ludovicko  grinned  at  this  left-handed 
tribute,  and,  with  as  much  suavity  as  his 
nature  permitted,  beckoned  his  client  to 
go  on. 

'  I  believe  that  M.iry's  child  will  be  my 
heir-at-law,  you  being  able  to  substantiate 
the  marriage.' 

'  Of  c()urso  he  will,  provided  his  mother 
has  not  lost  her  marriage  lines.' 

'  t  thought  you  had  them.' 

'  I  had  them  up  to  the  time  the  child 
wag  born,  but  when  that  took  place  she 
asked  me  for  them,  as  she  said  they  would 
be  of   use  to   the    ciiild.     I  objected  » 


iS 


CRAIG  ALLAN  CASTLB. 


aaoch  as  T  could  ;  hut  as  she  insifited  and 
would  t.rke  no  denial,  I  vrns  oMij^nd  to 
jield,  ^ivitlg  ht-r  evi-ry  caution,  however, 
lo  take  eare  of  them  ;  hut  now  that  her 
Benpes  are  gnne,  it  is  doubtful  if  she  has 
observe']  my  injunction.' 

'  J f  these  are  lost,  what  then?' 
'It  will  be  difficult   ta  prove  the  mar- 
riage.' 

'  In  the  stable  you  made  it  a  very  easj 
matter,"  said  Godfrey,  ir  mieally. 

'  Then,  Wr.  Grihaiu,  you  were  not  my 
client;  now  I  am  upon  honor.      Here  li^s 
the    difficidty  :   Kill)adie,  the  n)inister-lel- 
low,  is  crazy,  arid  his  testimony  might  be 
Bhaken.     Hundreds  saw  you  married,  and 
could  swear  to  you   v ere  you  alive;  but,  I 
were  you  dead,  not  one    of    them    could  \ 
give  OMih  that  the  unknown  traveller  was 
Wr.    Gi-aliam  of   Craig.illan,    sim-e  >  ead 
Had  jou  visited  her    then,    cohabitation 
might  have  been  established,  but  you  did 
not.' 

'  What  can  you  do,  then?' 
'  Make  nut  y(air  will  in  favor  of  your 
child,  and  have  it  so  worded  that  the  pro- 
perty, or  whatever  else  you  design,  shall 
go  to  him  whether  his  parentage  be 
proven  or  not.' 

At  this  juncture  the  doctor  entered, 
«nd,  in  virtue  of  hia  office,  proceeded  at 
oCce  to  the  bedside. 

'Air.  Graham,'  said  Fitzgibbon,  warm- 
ly, '  you  must  have  no  more  legal  omsul- 
tatioTis,  your  pulse  is  worse  than  it  was, 
and  I  can  easily  see  that  you  have  been 
excite*!.  Ex«-use  me,  Mr.  Grant,  but  you 
are  tn-nehing  on  my  department,  and  1 
will  not  be  answerable  for  the  consequen- 
ces if  Mr.  Graham  is  permitted  to  speak 
much,  or  be  agitated  in  any  way.' 

*  I  came  hero,'  rejoined  Ludovicko,  '  by 
request;  and  if  the  case  be  urgent,  my 
department  will  not  brook  delay  any 
more  than  yours,  doctor.  Mr.  Graham 
wishes  to  make  a  settlement ;  and  if  he 
does  nut  live  sixty  days  after  making  it,  it 
is  liable  to  be  challenged.' 

'  Sixty  days  !     I  will    not    answer    for 
Bixty  hours  !' 
Godfrey  groaned 

'  Don't  be  alarmed,  sir,'  interposed  Lu- 
dovicko, '  the  law  is  liberal.  You  must 
live  sixty  days,  or  be  at  kirk  or  market , 
and  surely,  doctor,  Mr.  Graham  is  not  so 
bad  that  he  may  not  do  either  of  these. 
Are  you  sure  that  there  is  no  mistake? 
Although  he  has  always  been  pale  in  the 
face,  he  is  strong  and  muscular,  and  can- 
not possibly  be  so  near  death's  door  as  ye 
represent.' 

Godfrey  turned  himself  heavily,  and, 
▼ielding   to  an  opiate,  dozed  into  elum- 


'  Mr.  Grant,'  ?aid  the  now  enraged  phf* 
si>  ian,  '  this  is  insulting.  I  should  have 
considered  it  utimanneriy  had  a  brother 
praetitioiier  made  any  6u<-b  remark  ;  but 
lor  you,  ^i^,  an  unprofcssioinil  party,  to 
(question  my  projiuo^is  ! — sir,  it  in  the 
sanctity  of  the  8ick-rt)om  alone  that  pre^ 
vents  me  from  reseritiiig  your  imperth- 
nence.  You  judge,  t-ir,  b}'  vulg  ir  exter- 
nal appearance:  butconim>'n  o'lscrvation, 
Kir,  must  have  made  you  lamihar  with 
eases  where  })eo{ile  have  dropp,  d  down 
dead  in  the  street,  sir.  I  suppose  everj 
tishwi'e  hae  known  instances  of  that,  sir; 
and  is  it  anything  uncommon  that  a  gen- 
tleman should  die  in  his  bed,  desjiite  thj 
best  medical  attendance,  after  a  few  days' 
illness?' 

'  Doctor,  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  really 
did  not  mean ' 

'  Don't  trouble  yourself,  sir  ;  this  is  ao 
interference  that  can't  be  rubbed  out  by 
a  mere  verbal  apology.' 

'  You  quite  mistake  me,  doctor  ;  it  wa« 
from  no  wish  to  impugn  your  professional 
skill  that  I  made  the  remark,  but  merely 
from  anxiety  to  prevent  Mr.  Graham  from 
p<istponing  theexecuti(m  of  his  settlement, 
it  is  an  awful  thing  to  die  intestate,  doe- 
tor.  You  must,  in  yoar  large  practice, 
know  many  cases  where  the  peace  of  fam- 
lies  baa  fiir  ever  been  broken  up,  domes- 
tic brawls,  endless  litigalitms,  and  com- 
plete swallowing  up  of  funds  ;  and  even 
when  a  small  part  of  the  property  is  en- 
tailed  ' 

'  You  know  yoT/r  business — I  know 
mine;  and  as  t  desire  to  know  no  other, 
I  want  no  details,'  replied  the  leech. 
'  This  apartment  you  must  leave  instant- 
ly ;  or,  if  you  won't,  I  will.  In  the  sick 
room  lawyer  and  clergyman  must  yield 
to  the  physician ;  you  may  at  times  be 
great  in  your  several  spheres,  but  here  I 
am  supreme.  Will  you  go,  sir,  at  once, 
or  shall  I  rouse  Mr.  Graham,  perhaps  at 
the  risk  of  his  life?' 

'  Doctor,  you  undoubtedly  have  a  com- 
mission, but  you  must  not  ride  on  the  top 
of  it.  •  Becalm.  Mr.  Graham  (here  low- 
ering his  voice)  has  legatees  in  his  eye; 
and  if  you  will  only  be  reasonable  I  shall 
use  my  humble  influence  with  him — you 
understand  me.  Then,  when  all  is  over, 
I  shall  have  the  paying  of  your  bUl ;  you 
can,  perhaps,  understand  that  too.' 

'  Low  man!'  said  Dr.  Fitzgibbop.,  ♦  I 
belonjT  to  a  profession,  not  a  trade — a  no- 
ble profession,  which  has  never  sacrificed 
its  opportunities  to  degrading  purposes. 
Mr.  Graham  shall  be  ajiprised  of  your 
proposal,  and  doubtless  some  other  le^ 
adviser  will  be  chosen.     Go,  sir,  iuooedi- 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


1» 


fctely.    Corae  one  step  further  and  I  shall  averred,  was  the  refuse  of  Hayes's  shoj^. 


ling  the  bell  and  order  you  out 

'  i'oii  need  ncjt  trouble  yourself  to  ring, 
I  sliuil  g)  without  the  necessity  of  that 
cereiu my  ;  hut  lua^l^  me,  Doctor  Fitzgili- 
bon  I  my  going  will  cost  you  dear.  An- 
other p.itieut  of  yours,  Airs,  ll.iycs,  the 
groiier  s  Jaly,  has  be^n  suea'<ing  to  me 
about  her  will  (Ludovic  o  had  sjioken  to 
her),  and  if  there  should  he  any  mention 
of  a  leg  ley  to  yonv  wile,  I  sli.tli  ta  e  care 
to  remiu'l  hi  r  ol  the  numerous  payments 
made  to  tlie  hu8')aiid.' 

Alas  lor  huniao,  or  rather  medical,  vir- 
tue !  Dr.  Fiti!gil)l»on  lootred  as  \v.»Jd  as  it 
he  had  received  an  electric  shoe »  I'o  he 
left  out  of  Mrs.  Uayes"  will,  was  indeed  to 
spring  a  mine  b-jneath  his  feet.  For  tea 
years  liad  he  prescribed  for  the  aihuents, 
real  and  imaginary,  uf  Mrs.  Hayes;  he 
had  taueii  lo.ignigs  lor  her  in  the  coun- 
try, lodgings  at  the  sea-side  :  his  wife 
Lad  sent  Mer  j'lii.'S  and  iiiarinalade  every 


Many  was  the  mild  lo  >k  which  Fiizgib- 
bon  had  to  reproach  his  wile  for  casting 
on  his  venerable  patient  across  th«  card- 
table,  and  many  was  the  hot  dispute  on 
the  way  hoiue  as  to  the  probability  of 
anvtbing  ever  coming  their  way  at  all, 
which  disputes  generally  endeU  in  the 
l.idj'  castmg  her  botniet  and  lioU  Roy 
sh:iwl  on  the  lloor,  and  then,  in  the  event 
of  a  nursery  c/neute,  exercising  di.scipline 
on  the  person  of  Jean  Maria  ll  lyes  with 
double  emphasis.  To  live  with  his  wife 
after  being  cut  off  by  Mrs.  li.iy*'S  would 
be  impossible,  and  Doctor  FitzgiObon  saw 
it. 

*  My  dear  Mr.  Grant,'  said  the  now 
humbled  herbalist,  '  forgive  me,  pray  do! 
The  fact  is,  I  once  knockeji  my  head 
agJiinst  the  do(tr  of  the  hospital  v.hen  a 
Ktu  lent,  and  it  disturbed  the  cereltal  cir- 
cufation  ;  and  hencu,  when  excited,  I  am 
'ipt    to  sfteak   to    my    friends  with  more 


time  that  the  blessed  dili<racies  came  into  I  Warmth  than  occasion  retjuires.  With 
Beason.  One  of  his daughtei'S  was  nam-d  ]  re^jard  t(»  Mr.  Gr.iham,  you  may  do  any- 
after  her,  and  one  of  his  sons  after  her  thing  you  please;  iwid  as  to  that  little 
husband;  and  every  time  that  the>  got  i  matter  about  the  11  lyeses,  consider,  Mr. 
new  hats  or  itocks,  the  little  dears  visited  Grant,  that  I  h.ivo  a  sm  dl  family,  and 
theoll  couple,  and  were  rewarded  witn  a  let  not  anything  be  between  us  on  that 
kiss  an  1  Bixj.ience  each.     Every  time  that!  score.' 

the  old  vviima.i  had  hiccup  or  heartburn,  '  Not'..ing  shall  be,'  said  Ludovicko  ; 
corns,  deafii.^ss,  toothac  .e,  or  the  all-pre-  <  but,'  thought  Lud.ivicko,  '  there  shalL 
vading  'n -rvis mess,'  had  he  been  called,  '  B„t  to  business,  doctor.  Any  chance  of 
and  atteu  led  Sunday  and  8aturda> ,  sum-  i  Graham  having  heard  us  V 

mer   and  winter,  nitjiit  and   day,  rain  or  I      t  xt  r  i-  i       •      j         i.i. 

.     ,      ,  \    °  .    ,  ,  .    '  ;,  None.   I  gave  bim  a  sleer.ingdraught; 

•now.     And  what  had    been  his  reward?  L.    a     u    ■*  u  .         . 

T     ,  .,  ,,  i-.  ic    .w  1    I  _^jjjj     besides,    we  have   not  spoken  very 

Just  three  guineas  (beg  pardon — pounds)    l^^^^^l  ■> 

per   annum,   whic.    no  more    paid  shoe-  i      /ji^  j,^^^  j,-  ^^^  sleeping.' 

leather  t. an  It  pa.d  the  interest  ot  the  |  .  yes,  but  he  couhfnot  change  his  pulse, 
national  d.ibt.      And   t  us  was  al  .     No, ,  „u-  i    i       •  j         •     »  r        » 

^    .  ,1       II     I-       ir        n-.     -1  ■         ,     j'    which  has  improved  ajrain.' 

not  exaotU  all;  lor  Mrs.   Fitznbbon  had        »  \t  .    i-  .  c     •       t 

^    „    ,.  ,     ij'      ^  Y'"'ny^^  "'1^1       '  Now,  as  to  his  state — any  professional 

CJt   a   Koo   Itov    tartan   shawl  Irom  old    u       u      i      r»     •»      i     ■         •  ■ 

ft         -.  1    .         ""*/*'  "^'"  "'^    humbug?     Don  t  take  it  amiss.     1  some- 

Hayes  uve    years  belore,  w  nca  ff.inuent    t^:    „     ? .    u  ,„  u        i      u 

I./,,  •'       .    ,    ,      ',      i/      °  times    humbug    my   clients;   why  should 

old  11 1,  es  expected  she  should  Wear  when    „„,.„,,.  i^n  „,  '  i-     ..    »t 

•  v-       1      1  .  ■  1  you  not  do  the  same  with  your  patients  ! 

visiting  Ins  house  on  state  occasions.  »  \r     -i    .    ..     i  ri    j 

'  .  =■ 'uo.  '  No  deceit,   I   assure  you.      Under  no 

Patients  had  in  olden  times  left  money  '  circumstances  could    he  have  lived  long ; 
to  their   piiysiciuis,    but   Dr.    Fitzgihb.m    but  bis    midnight  caper   has    accellerated 
thought  those  halcyon    days  had    p  issed    his  disfcuse  very  materially.' 
away  tdi  the  11  lyeses  cast  up.     ibey  had  1      '  Could  he  be  dressed   and  go  down    to 
no    children  or    near    relati.ms.     liayes  ;  his  office  in  the  course  of  the  forenoon?' 
himsell  never  had  any  complaints,  bat  his  ;       '  Impossible,  my  dear  sir,' 
Stout  spouse  had  so  many  th.-t,  in  all  s.ive  !      '  Come,  doctor,  no  impossibilities.  This 
her  purs-j-strjngs,    Fuzgiblion   had    ahso-    is  market-day.     I  11  have  his  will  done  in 
lute  control   over    her;   what,    therefore,    a  tvvinkhng.     If  be  but  goes  to  bis  place 
more  hic  ly  il.au  that  he  should    he  left  a   of  business,  and  buys  and  sells,  the  settle- 
em  irt  leg  icy,  it  not  the  bulli  of  the  whole    ment  moy  hold  good.     There    is,    to  be 
fortune  ol   tiie   pair?     Not  content   with    sure,  a  provision  that  if  a    man   dies-   of 
having  p.»or  Fnzgiobon,  night  after  ni>;ht,    the  s.iine  disease  that  he  had    about    him 
playing    at  b  icHg  immon    and    drtugbts    when  be  Biijns  the  document,  there  maj 
With  old  U.tyes,  her  ladyship  would  h  .ve    be  a  challenge— but    you    could   misti^ 
Mrs.    l^itzgiDbon  over  to   take  rubbers  of  that,  could  you  not  ?' 
whist.     I'hen  followed  suppers  of  uns.iv-  1      '  Oh,  yes.     Between    ouraolveg,  I   am 
ory  cheese,  stale  eggs,  and    beer  villain-   not  sure  of  the  precise  Jieease  ;  but,  from 
»u»ly  acjd,  all  of  which,  Mrs.  Fiugibbon  its  indications,  bis    days  are  numbered. 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTIxK. 


And  as  to  diagnosis,  call  in   six  members ' 
of  the  college,  and  even  at  hinposi  morion 
they  will    have   difllrent  opiuions.'   But 
hush  !  he  is  waking.' 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Godfrey  Graham's  place  of  businesa 
contained  three  apartments  ;  the  outtT 
office,  where  Jones  and  Ogle  sat,  the  mid- 
dle one  where  olii  I'rotter  kept  tlie  books, 
and  the  inner  of  all,  where  Ginlfrey  had 
wont  to  sit  in  solitary  majesty.  Coun- 
selled hy  Ludovicko,  Godfrey  proceeded 
to  his  Sanctum,  his  appearance  giving  lit- 
tle or  no  token  that  the  winding- flieet 
was  high  uj^nm  his  hreast.  Having  taken  | 
his  place  there,  Ludovicko  proceeded  to 
unfold  his  instructions  systematically.        j 

'  You  must  appear,  Mr.  Graham,'  said 
that  worthy,  'as  if  nothing  can  be  the 
matter  with  you ;  you  must  be  rather 
more  strict  and  attentive  to  business  than 
usual.  My  appearance  here  must  be  ac- 
counted for ;  and  as  it  so  happens  that  I 
have  the  management  of  the  bankrupt  es- 
tate ofGillott,  the  ch&ndler,  who  has  re-, 
ceived  payment  from  you  for  stores  con-  I 
fiigm  d  to  him  by  a  Newcastle  house, 
■which  he  has  not  given  credit  for,  that 
will  be  a  sufficient  reason  fur  your  asking 
Mr.  Trotter  to  show  me  all  the  documents 
connected  with  the  trnnsactions  between 
you  and  him  ;  and  as  it  is  not  possible  | 
that  he  can  produce  them  in  a  hurry,  I 
shall  have  ample  time  to  prepare  the  set- 
tlement. In  the  meantime,  have  the 
goodness  t(j  give  me  the  title-deeds  of  the 
Craigallan  estate,  as  I  require  them  for 
the  will.'    • 

Godfrey  mechanically  opened  a  desk, 
and  handed  Ludovicko  a  packet  of  parch- 
ment papers  secured  by  red  tape,  and 
having  done  this  he  sank  into  his  chair, 
and  seemed  buried  in  reflection.  Like 
jnost  emotional  men,  he  only  required  a 
motive  in  order  to  induce  him  to  pursue  a 
steady  course  ;  and  a  motive  once  jire- 
Bented,  no  obstacle  was  too  great  for  him 
to  surmount.  The  consciousness  of  hav- 
ing injured  Mary  by  a  neglect  which  had 
driven  her  into  lunacy,  and  the  consider- 
ation that  the  ellects  of  that  neglect,  go 
far  as  she  was  concerned,  were  irrepa-- 
rable,  suggested  to  him  the  necessity  of 
making  ample  atonement  to  her  innocent 
«hild  ;  and  when  he  thought  that  eveu 
this  poor  recompense  might  be  beyond  his 
power,  he  sighed  at  the  thought  of  his 
procrastination,  and,  for  the  first  time  in 
nis  life,  seriously  reflected  on  the  impo- 
toDcy  and  short-sightedness  of  man.    But 


there  was  still  hope,  and  he  determined 
that  every  effort  should  be  used  to  carrj 
out  the  reinedi.d  instructions  of  Ludo- 
vicko. With  this  view  he  rallied  himsell 
for  the  purpose  ot  going  into  the  next 
apartment  to  give  instructions  to  old 
Trotter  ;  but  a  sudden  tremor  came  over 
him,  and  he  fell  back  like  a  child. 

'  Can  this  be  death  T"  thought  Graham. 

The  feeling  was  chill  and  unearthly, 
something  that  had  never  l>een  felt  he- 
j'ore,  but  which,  when  felt,  sent  new  sen- 
sations throughout  the  frame.  It  was  us 
if  the  process  of  unrobing  the  soul  bad 
commenced,  and  the  shivering  blast  oi 
death  had  come  in  at  the  first  opening : 
if  the  first  instalment  produced  such 
freezing,  how  would  the  spirit  brave  it 
when  flung  out  <m  the  cold  bleak  sea  of 
eternity  ?  Now  the  question  of  life  seemed 
squeezed  into  the  few  moments  that  con- 
nect vitality  with  corruption — twilight 
with  night.  Graham  sickened  at  the 
thought ;  the  windows  a{>peared  to  fly 
upward — a  hissing  darkne^s  followed— 
then  sparks  came  from  his  eyes,  and  the 
unhappy  man,  making  a  last  effort,  fell 
forward  as  if  to  the  ground.  Thought  is 
invisible  ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  sound 
of  fulling  fell  upon  the  ear  of  Ludovicko 
that  he  was  conscious  of  any  change  in 
his  client.  Ever  on  the  alert  to  antici- 
pate contingencies,  the  wily  lawyer  had 
asked  the  doctor  to  furnish  him  with  a 
restorative,  in  case  of  any  relapse  ;  and 
on  applying  this  to  the  lips  of  his  pros- 
trate Iriend,  he  rallied,  and  gradually 
came  back  to  consciousness  ;  and,  after  a 
short  space,  he  was  so  far  recovered  as  to 
be  able  to  proceed  to  the  outer  office, 
whither  he  was  accompanied  by  Rankin. 

The  curiosity  of  Skipton  was  irresisti- 
ble ;  and,  with  the  view  of  picking  up 
some  intelligence,  he  returned  to  tlie  of- 
fice, and  to  his  dismay,  was  at  once  con- 
fronted with  Godfrey.  He  started  with 
dumb  astonishment,  and  was  not  able  tc 
articulate  a  single  word.  Godlrey'g 
thoughts  were  otherwise  occupied  ;  but 
at  last  he  asked  Skipton  his  business. — 
The  poor  brazier,  however  bold  at  gri- 
mace among  his  fellows,  was  sadly  at  a 
loss  when  the  difficulties  of  actual  life 
presented  themselves,  and  could  not  an- 
swer. Old  Trott(;r  repeated  the  query, 
but  still  Skipton  stammered  and  stuttered. 
At  last  Jones  took  pity  on  the  embarrass- 
ment of  his  quondam  theatrical  associate, 
and  prompted  hiro. 

'  You  will  be  come  again  about  the  ac- 
count against  the  Minerva,  but  its  no  use 
bothering  Mr.  Graham ;  you  know  I  told 
you  that  unless  endorsed  by  the  captain 
we  could  not,  on  any  account,  pay  it ' 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE.. 


tl 


'  Certainly  not,'  added  Godfrey ;  '  and   look,  was  the  commentary  on  this  reply. 


!  wonder  that  my  practice  in  tliis  respect 
shouhi  not  lie  known  to  everybody  that 
works  for  me.' 

'  [  heg  pardon,'  muttered  Skipton,  and 
making  a  desperate  rush  toward  the, 
door. 

'  St  >p,'   interrupted   Godfrey.      *  How 
much  iocs  your  account  amount  to  V 
Skif  ton  quivered  and  turned  pale. 
'  How  much  does  your  account  amount 
to?' 

An  anwry  signal  being  made  by  Jones, 
Skipt-on  hesitatingly  said — 
*  About  five  pounds.' 
'  Well,'  said  Godfrey,  '  take  his  receipt 
for  three  he  may  be  in  want  of  money, 
and  the  balance  can  be  adjusted  after- 
wards.' 

Skipton,  before  whose  mind  floated 
visions  of  prison  and  transportation  f>r 
money  received  under  fiilsH  pretences,  was 
not  for  taking  the  offered  sum  ;  but  he  had 
no  alternative,  and  left  the  t){Bce  after 
eigning  the  necessary  document. 

'  Some  screw  loose  there,'  said  the 
sb.irp  Rankin  ;  but  his  remark  passed  un- 
heeded. 

The  door  again  opened,  and  a  huge 
fanner  came  in,  who  at  once  accosted 
Godfrey. 

'  Dear  me,  ^Ir.  Graham,  T  am  glad  to 
see  you.  I  heard  ye  was  at  Death's  door, 
but  ye're  no  looking  very  ill  after  a'.  His 
loays  are  not  like  ours.  I  have  come  to 
offlir  you  some  corn  ;  it's  a  bonny  sam- 
ple.' 

'  I  buy  none  by  sample.  Whenever 
your  corn  is  weighed,  you  will  be  paid  by 
its  weight,  and  1  will  purchase  it  no  other 
way.' 

'  But  in  that  way,  sir,  a  coarse  corn 
has  no  advantage  o'er  a  bonny  oat  like 
mine.' 

'  I  care  not,  that  is  my  way  of  doing 
business,  and  sell  or  not  as  you  think  fit,' 
answered  Godfrey,  who  was  beginning  to 
get  tired  with  the  contradiction  of  his 
visitors.  Again  the  door  opened,  and 
S.irah  came  timidly  in,  and  was  in  her 
turn  agiin  surprised  at  seeing  hiui,  and, 
Bcizing  his  hand,  escilaimed, 

'  Dear  unele,  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  very 
clad  indeed ;  they  told  mo  you  were  so 
Ul!" 

'  I  feel  rather  bettor  now,  Sarah.' 
'  But   you  look  pale,   uncle,  and  you 
would  be  far  better  at   home  among   tiie 
trees  and  flowers  than  sitting  here  among 
to  many  pipers.' 

'  I  shall  n(jt  be  long  in  going  home.' 
*  Are  you  busy  just  now,  uucle  V 
'  Very,  my  dear  ' 
A  single  sigh,  and  a  mild,  imploring 


Henry  Martyn,  the  missionary,  spoke 
well  when  he  exeliimed,  '  Oh,  the  over- 
whelming f)rceof  gt-ntleness?'  and  it  was 
exemplified  in  the  case  of  Godfrey  (Irx- 
ham,  on  whom  the  meek  face  made  its 
due  impression. 

'  Do  you  want  anything,  Sarah  ?'  said 
the  uncle. 

'  I  wished  to  speak  with  you  by  ■vour- 
self,  uncle  ;  but,  as  >  ou  are  busy  I  will 
call  some  other  time.' 

'  There  is  no  time  lika  the  present,'  re- 
plied Goilfrey,  and  he  beck(med  her  into 
the  middle  room  where  Trotter  was  in  the 
habit  of  sitting.  '  You  must  not  keep  me 
limg,  Strah,'  added  he, '  as  I  have  a  great 
many  things  to  do.' 

_'  No,  uncle,  I  shall  not  keep  you — five 
minutes  will  do.  We  are  poor,  very  pixfr, 
uncle  ;'  and  here  she  looked  tremblingly 
to  the  door.  '  Some  nights  we  go  to  bed 
without  any  supper,  and  sometimes  I  go 
to  schotd  without  having  any  breakfast  ; 
and  I  cannot  pl.ay  and  laugh  like  the  other 
girls — oft(m  because  I  am  hungry,  and 
oftener  because  I  feel  so  bad  at  heart. 
And  father  and  mother  are  also  unh)ippy. 
You  will  tiiitik  it  curious  in  me  speaking 
about  myself  aiul  not  about  tliein,  but 
they  told  me  to  do  it,  and  they  said  that 
you  Would  be  kinder  if  I  spoke  about  my- 
self; but  I  cannot  di»  that,  for  I  am  sure 
they  are  much  more  unhappy  than  I  am. 
You  are  father's  brother,  anil  I  often  wish 
that  I  had  a  brother ;  it  would  not  be  so 
lonely  in  the  long  dark  nights  if  I  had  a 
brotber  as  other  girls  have,  and  I  would 
bo  very  fond  of  him.  But  mother  says  it 
is  better  that  I  have  no  brotber,  as  he 
would  starve  too ;  and  [  dare  say  so  it  is. 
for  if  he  got  nothing  to  eat,  he  might  cry, 
and  it  would  be  terrible  to  hear  a  little 
boy  cry  for  that.' 

_  '  My  po(jr  girl,  I  should  be  glad  to  as- 
sist you  ;  you  are  too  young  to  know 
about  these  things,  but  I  have  often  as- 
sisted your  father.' 

'  Oh,  yes  ;  they  told  me  all  about  that, 
and  they  desired  me  to  say  that  they  were 
very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  kind- 
ness ;  and  now,  if  you  would  only  give 
them  as  mui;h  as  would  take  us  all  to 
America,  we  would  never  give  you  any 
more  tnmble.' 

'  Well,  I  will  see  what  can  be  done, 
Sarah.' 

'  rhanks ;  many  thanks,  my  dear  un- 

And  Sarah»  wag  dismissed  ;  and  God« 
frey  went  in  to  Ludovicko,  wlio,  by  the 
aid  of  the  key-hole,  had  made  himself 
master  of  the  conversation,  although  h« 
heard  Godfrey's  abstract  of  it  with  all  th* 


22 


CRAIG  ALLAN  CASTLE. 


gravity  of  one  who  listens  to  a  new  com- 1  rage  I  could  get  into  one  too  ;  hut   thig 


Biunic.trutn. 

'  Ir  is  all  huuibug,'  said  Ludocicko  ;  'he 
merely  wisht-N  to  raise  the  wind,  and  has 
no  Uiure  thoughts  u\'  emigration  tl)an  1 
have.  It  iM  tiiu  good  news  to  he  true. — 
Several  emigrant  ships  have  been  lost, 
and  it'  he  could  go  to  the  bottom  too,  it 
were  the  hest  thin^  that  could  happen.' 

'  I  should  like  to  do  something  lor  the 
girl ;  I  am  sure  she  h.is  no  deceit.' 


unfarthly  coldness  of  Grant's  floors  Jie. 
The  more  angry  tlv.it  I  get,  the  coolei  ha 
Ivooini's;  ami  then,  that  horriil  look  of 
his,  it  freezes  me.  But  I'll  he  upsides 
with  him.  If  he  would  tell  u)e  when  he 
is  goiiig  to  do  a  thirij;  off  the  square,  I 
might  go  snacks  with  hiiu  ;  hut  he  will 
let  nobody  into  his  conJiilence.' 

Pursuing  this  train  of  r  flection,  Ran- 
I  kin  did  not  t  ike  [lartioidur  heed  as  to  ids 


She  is  out  of  a   h-.v]  nest  •  and,  as  to    footsteps,  and,  turning  acorner,  he  jump- 
deceit,  if  you  had  only  attended  to  yovir  I  <>"  J"'hn  Grahaui.     From  repeated  \isit8 


duties  as  a  justice  of  the  {leace,  you  would 
havp  seen  from  young  heggars  how  the 
▼eriest  imps  of  Siitau  can  simper  and  turn 
up  their  eyes.' 

'  Mr.  Grant  I  wish  to  provide  for  my 
niece,  and  that  is  enough.' 

'  Oil,  certainly,  it  is  no  affair  of  mine  ; 
but  it  must  just  l>e  as  much  as  will  keep 
»oul  and  t>ody  together,  and  no  more  ;  for 
if  it  he,  the  father  will  get  into  as  deep 
water  as  ever.' 

'  You  do  not  think  he  will  go  away,  as 
the  girl  says?' 

'  I  don  I;  but  there  is  no  harm  in  try- 
ing. The  settlement  is  now  ready  for  sig- 
nature. The  legaey  to  the  girl  can  be 
inserted  afterwards.  I  shall  be  one  wit- 
ness, ynd  my  clerk  will  be  the  other. — 
Bless  nje  how  your  hand  shakes  !  Take 
time,  you  have  to  sign  each  of  the  three 
pages,  and  it  won't  do  if  they  are  not  all 
alike.  That's  better.  Now  I  will  sign.' 
And  Ludovieko  ^igned,  and  after  throw- 
ing a  sheet  ul'  blotting-paper,  as  il  hy  ac- 
cident, over  the  body  of  the  deed,  he 
called  for  Rankin. 

'Sign  there  as  a  witness.'' 
Rankin,  also,  as  if  by  accident,  knock- 
ed   aside   the    bhjtting  |)aper,    and    made  I  tr\ 
quick  use  of  his  eyes,  Ludovicko  restored    blind 
k  to   its  place,  and   emphatically  asked 
him  to  sign. 

'  I  did  not  see  the  gentleman  subscribe,' 
said  the  cler    doggedly. 

Lord  Chatham,  in  the  days  of  his  great- 
ness, made  Lords  of  the  Admirality  put 
their  signatures  to  hlank  documents  ;  and 
although  not  so  great  a  man  as  Lord 
Chatham,  Luilovic  o  had  a  touch  of  the 
arbitrary  about  him.  He  fixed  his  cold, 
grey  eye  on  Rankin  fur  a  second  time, 
and  then  repeated  the  monosyllahle  com- 
mand in  a  tone  of  such  peculiar  character 
that  the  humbled  assistant  took  up  the 
and  signed  according  to  order. 

'  Now,  sir,  go  away  to  the  office  ;  and 
if  anybody  wants  me,  say  that  1  shall  be 
there  in  an  hour.' 

Rankin  took  his  hat,  and  skulked  out. 
*  He  is  a  horrid  fellow,'  muttered  the 
lifBrk.     '  'When  my  old  master  got  into  a 


paid  to  John  soliciting  payments  of  debts 
entrusted  to  Gr.int  for  collection,  RaiiMa 
was  not  unknown  to  him  ;  and  John  was 
not  sorry  to  embrace- the  ojporturdty  in 
order  that  he  might  gain  some  intelliginco 
legarfling  the  rumored  will,  lie  could 
not  have  spoken  to  the  chafed  assistant 
at  a  more  fitting  opportunity. 

'  How  do  ye  do,  Mr.  Rankin  ?  Verj 
busy  just  now,  I  suppose  ?  I  hear  of  a 
gre-at  many  jobs  going  your  way — wills 
and  such  things,  eh?' 

'Yes,  Mr.  Graham,  we  are  pretty  busy ; 
how  do  you  find  business?' 

'  Never  so  bad  ;  in  fact,  between  you 
and  me,  I  am  going  to  give  it  up,  and  emi- 
grate, if  you  gentlemen  of  the  law  would 
allow  lae.* 

'  Emigrate  f    Ah,  let  me  see.    No — yes 
— dang  it,  I  may  do  something  on  my 
own  account.    Can  you  be  on  honor,  Mr 
Graham  ?' 
'  Certainly.' 
'  Bright?' 

'  You  may  trust  me  thoroughly ;  on 
oath  if  you  like.' 

'AVell,  all  that  T  say  is,  don't  emigrate ; 

things  are  looking  up  for  you  in  this  coun- 

A  wink    is  as  g(H)d  as  a  nod    to  a 

horse.      Craigiillan ;    I   can't   say 

more  ' 

'  But  has  my  brv)ther  made  a  will?' 
*  I  dare  cot  say  one  word  more  :  only, 
if  you  are  your  own  friend  do  not  leave.' 
'  Thank  you,  Mr.  Ritnkin,  I  will  not.* 
They  separated,  the  one  knowing  that 
he  had  8  lid  too  much,  and  the  other  per- 
plexed about  the  possible  meaning  of  a 
hint   from  such    a  quarter.      Proceeding 
further  up  the  street,  John  espied   Ludo- 
vicko ;  but  knowing  that  that  gentleman 
always   made  unpleasant  allusions   to  his 
obligations,  he  tried   to  avoid  him,  but  in 
vain  ;    Ludovicko  made  directly  towaids 
him. 

'  I  am  glad  I  have  seen  you,'  said  the 
lawyer,  '  I  was  just  goi'ng  to  have  called 
on  you.  You  are  aware,  my  dear  sir, 
that  your  excellent  Jirother  has  done  ma 
the  honor  to  consult  me  regarding  his  af- 
fairs, and  he  has  let  me  into  a  small  pieot 


CRAIGALL.VN  CASTLE. 


23 


of  family  history ;  in  our  profession,  we 
Bometiiues  cannot  help  receiving  such 
communications.  Your  daughter,  a  very 
interesting^  chil'l,  has  intormed  her  uncle 
that  you  wi.-sh  t>  emigrate.  I  had  no  idea 
that  m  ittt  rs  were  so  bad  with  you  .  of 
course  I  knew,  as  you  are  aware,  that 
you  have  be  n  a  little  pushed,  but  I  had 
no  cimception  that  matters  had  come  to 
BUch  an  extremity.  Your  brotiier,  al- 
though much  disposed  to  favor  his  niece, 
is  yet  so  incensed  at  his  former  losses  by 
you,  th.it  he  was  not  at  tirst  disposed  to 
usten  to  the  pruposil;  bat,  after  much 
persuasion,  I  have  ut  last  induced  him  to 
agree  to  it,  ami  I  have  now  the  sitisfac- 
tioa  of  irtfuriairip;  you  that  he  is  willing  tit 
pay  a  sm  dl  cumpusition  to  your  creditors, 
defray  your  passage  and  outfits,  and  al-o 
lodge,  in  a  correspondent's  hands  at  Que- 
bec or  Montreal,  a  small  sum  to  assist 
you  in  getting  up  t!ie  country.' 
'  Mr.  Grant,  I  beg  you  will — ' 

*  Nay,  no  th  inks,  Mr.  Graham  ;  it  is 
our  duty,  you  know,  to  assist  one  an- 
other.' 

*  You  mistake  we,  Mr.  Grant  I  cer- 
tainly did  intend  to  thank  you,  but  I  also 
inteufled  doing  something  else.' 

'Oh,  command  me  in  any  way  you 
please.' 

'  Vou  still  mistake  me  ;  I  have  changed 
ray  mind  on  the  subject  of  emigration.  A 
little  teiHpi)rary  assistance  would  be  very 
accepti'de,  but  not  for  the  purpose  of 
emigration.' 

*  Why  have  you  ch:>nged  your  mind  V 
said  Luilovicko,  bis  face  assuming  a  re- 
gret which  his  inner  man  did  not  feel. 

'  Why,'  replied  John,  with  some  em- 
barrassment, '  I  have  no  certiiitity  that  I 
shall  succeed  h.itter  there  than  here.' 

*  No  certainty!  of  course  nothing  is 
certain  here  below,'  answered  Lud(»vicko, 
'  but  there  is  hope.  Let  me  advise  you 
to  reconsider  this,  Mr.  Graham.  At  .ill 
events,  1  shall  give  you  another  opportu- 
nity for  reconsideration.  I  like  all  such 
matters  to  be  disi^ussedin  writing  ;  I  shill 
therefore  send  you  a  note,  which  you  can 
answer  at  leisur.;.' 

'  It  is  (»f  no  use,  Mr.  Grant,  as  I  have 
quite  m  idti  up  my  mind  not  to  go.' 

'  Very  well,  sir.  Only  take  this  w.irn- 
ing :  tti>!  momiMit  I  show  your  brotlii-r 
your  de-linatioti,  his  interest  in  you  anii 
yours  in  at  an  end.  Your  daughter  was 
oeginning  to  make  an  impression  on  biin  ; 
»ut  this  will  guud  you  all  to  the  wall  to- 
gether.' 

'  My  brother  surely  would  not  have  us 
leave  the  country  when  he  is  so  unwell.' 

'  I  thought  as  much.  Ah  I  the  f.hoe 
pincheB    there,    doea   it  1    Well,  I'll  be 


candid  with  you,  Mr.  <3ral  am.  Wereyon 

to  go  off  quietly,  your  bioiher  may  re- 
member you  when  he  comes  to  make  hi* 
will  ;  but  refuse  his  offer,  and,  believe  me.^ 
not  one  halfpenny  shall  you  ever  re- 
ceive.' 

They  parted,  Ludovicko  chuckling  that 
the  intervention  of  '  the  brat,'  as  ho 
called  Sirah,  would  now  be  nipp^i  in  the 
bud,  and  John  hesitating  whether  he 
were  right  in  refusing  the  emigration 
grant,  and  yet  satisfied  that  tlicre  was 
something  in  Rankin's  warning,  and 
something  also  in  Ludovico's  keenness  for 
his  departure. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

It  wao  now  '  the  timeof  witherinfr,  tne 
time  of  falling  leaves,'  and  thickly  did 
they  lie  about  the  wcmmIs  and  wa'ka  o£ 
Craigallan.  And  as  the  season  Wiui  \fABr 
ing  80  was  the  day. 

'The  eeitinEf  Fun   with  yellow  radiance  gilded 
all  ttve  vale.' 

while  at  the  extremity  of  the  horizontal 
view  the  lone  blue  sea  swept  round  the 
landseajie  like  an  ocean  giidle  ;  then  came 
the  glittering  houses  and  steeple  of  Paul- 
tcm  ;  then  fields  of  waving  corn,  ripe  for 
the  sickle ;  then  belts  of  trees  ;  then  the 
clear  river  shrouded  from  the  sun ;  then 
the  gardens,  with  their  flowers  of  ail  hues 
and  scents?  and  then,  last  of  ;ill,  these 
bring  us  to  the  towers  and  turr-ts  of  tlie 
old  castle,  majestic  in  its  very  swlit  oiness. 
On  such  a  night  and  in  such  a  scene  a 
Christian  might  wish  to  die  ;  when,  at 
peace  with  God  and  man,  he  crould  gent)j 
yield  his  spirit,  and  take  his  flight  to  tho 
l^etter  Imd.  But  sea,  nor  ciirth,  nor  sky 
were  heeded  by  the  lord  of  Craigallan. 
He  had  been  in  a  state  of  stupor  lor  many 
hours ;  and  it  seemed  certain  that  he 
would  fill  as  a  leaf  in  the  fori\st  of  death, 
unknowing  and  unknown.  Goifrt-y  Gra- 
ham had  belied  the  prognosis  of  Or.  An- 
t!ionv  Fitzgibbtm  so  far  as  time  was  con- 
cerned ;  the  sand  had  somehow  paused  in 
itp)  downward  career,  but  it  was  now  fast 
«b'iing  away,  and  life's  fitful  lever  was 
all  but  over.  As  the  pati  'Ut  broithed 
bird,  the  window  was  p  irt.ly  opened  • 
while  round  his  bed-side  was  the  Doctor, 
Ludoviitko,  hij  clerk  Rankin,  and  tho 
fiithful  Mirtlia  Tne  latter  al  )n*i  showed 
emotion  ;  the  physician  from  prof<H,sional 
habit,  the  lawyer  from  constittiiional  cha- 
racter, the  clerk  from  eticpiette,  were  ;ill 
silent.  But  woman — the  first  to  assist 
man  in  hid  entrance  to,  and  the  List  to  do 


24 


CRATGALLAN  CASTLE. 


9sit  liiiJi  in  Ills  departure  f/om,  tlie  wnrld 
— she  was  there,  unrunfamiiiateij  h\  secu- 
{■ur  bias,  to  siiioolli  tlie|.iil>>vv  of  death  hy 
kindly  ufiicert,  and,  ahuve  all.  by  ttie  lookn 
and  tuiij^ufi  (»f  sympathy,  fehe  wiped  the 
daiuiuy  sweaX  li-Din  the  hrow  and  hands 
(it  the  suiferer,  and  uidurnlully  shook  her 
head  as  resfiiration  seemed  less  and  less 
V)  p*-rfonji  its  office. 


the  physii-ian,  '  Godfrey  Graham,'  pb 
suiiied  KilhaHif,  '  Mary  Morison  i»  no 
more.  Ah,  y^u  may  groan — and  it  vfoa 
your  hand  that  duii  her  {rrave  ;  but  know, 
niiserable  ntan.  that  although  she  ui»c' 
f"ior,  and  not,  like  you,  snrrnunded  s\ith 
this  world  8  goods,  iier  deaih  was  not  like 
yours.  8!ie  had  no  trouble  nor  dismay. 
At  h(?r  eventide  it  was  light.     God  iu  hia 


'  Eh,  sirs,  its  a  humbling  tiling  to  see  I  mercy  restored  her  to  her  judgment  ere 
that  I  The  like  o'  us  in  health  hae  little  she  entered  the  shadow  of  the  dark  valley  ; 
knowledge  o'  the  sair  feeht  that   he   has   and  none  but  those    whose    weary    brain 


^ust  now.  But  it  canna  be  lang,  doctor — 
It  canna  be  lang ;  nature  cannot  aye 
Want  meat,  and  drink,  and  sleep.' 

The  doctjjr  civilly  moti<jned  silence; 
and  nothing  was  now  heard  but  the  soft 
evening  breeze,  and  the  ticking  of  a  hall 
clock.  Suddenly  the  door  bell  rang  with 
great  fury,  and  all  started  ;  even  the  sick 
man  g.ive  an  involuntary  quiver. 

'  Wha  could  do  that,'  said  Martha,  '  in 
eich  a  time  o'  distress?' 

A  heavy  foot  was  heard  approaching, 
whi<h,  despite  of  opposition,  was  making 
its  way  to  the  door  of  the  bed-chamber. 

'  Hinder  me  not,'  said  a  voice  ;  '  if  he 
is  dying  1  come  with  a  message  from  the 
dead  ;  and  1  may  not  Ije  obstructed.' 

The  door  opened,  and  Kilbadie,  the 
mendicant-preacher,  limped  in.  The  doc- 
tor at  once  walked  up  to  him,  and  insist- 
ed on  his  maintaining  the  most  absolute 
silence.  Ludovicko  also  commanded  him, 
with  some  asperity,  to  begin  with  no  ci- 
pers.  Martha,  who  ajijieared  to  know 
Kilbadie,  implored  that  he  might  be  al- 
lowed to  remain,  as  she  had  never  yet 
Been  a  death-bed  where  there  was  not  a 
minister  of  some  kind  present. 

'  I  have  a  message  to  deliver,  and  woe 
to  those  who  are  stumbling-blocks  in  the 
way  of  its  delivery ;  and  a  threefold  woe 
to  me  if  I  deliver  it  not.  Ye  that  are 
hers  have  earthly  duties  to  discharge, 
and,  hi.ving  done  them,  ye  can  do  no 
more  here  ;  but  my  business  l)egins  where 
yours  ends  Not  that  I  am  come  here,  as 
this  woman  supposes,  to  pray  as  a  priest, 
although  even  that  1  will  do,  if  I  see  an 
open  door  of  usefulness,  for  His  mercy 
iiust  not  be  limited  ;  but  I  come  here,  1 
eay,  with  a  message.'  He  went  to  the 
bed-side,  and  addressing  the  djing  man, 
he  ^aid,  *  Godfrey  Graham,  in  this,  na- 
ture's last  hour,  listen  to  me.  I  am  John 
Adam  of  Kilb.idie  ;  and  if  you  be  in  your 
right  mind  when  so  near  the  judgrnent- 
seat,  you  will  listen,  for  I  bear  tidings 
from  her  that  you  wot  of.' 

Graham  attempted  to  turn,  but  could 
not ;  he  motioned,  however,  that  the 
Bpeaker  should  go  on  ;  and  seeing  that  no 
•wtacle  was  interposed  by  Ludovicko  or 


has  I:>een   scorched  like  mine    Ciin    know 
what  it  is  to  be    able    to    look  up  to  the 
Eternal    in  his  own  clear  light.     Sl4ill  I 
tell  you  her  message  word  lor  word?' 
'  Do.' 

To  the  surprise  of  all,  Godfrey  had 
edged  himself  up  in  the  bed,  and,  instincfc 
with  revived  vitality,  he  gazed  on  Kil- 
badie. 

'  She  charged  me  to  do  so,  and  I  will 
do  jt.  "Tell  Godfrey  Graham,"  said 
that  now  glorified  spirit,  "  that  I  lived 
and  thought  on  him  till  a  dream  came 
over  me,  from  whidi  I  now  think  I  have 
wakened,  although  it  seems  only  to  die. 
He  little  kuows  the  strength  of  woman's 
love.  Tell  him,  too,  that  going  to  a  God 
of  love,  I  forgive  him  ;  but,  by  all  the 
sense  of  my  wrongs,  1  charge  him  to  own 
and  do  justice  to  my  boy.  Could  I  V»ut 
see  him  before  I  die,  I  should  indeed  be 
haiipy  !"  And  she  died,  Godfrey  Gra- 
ham ;  and  i.'  the  nussiige  I  deliver  be  too 
late,  His  will  lie  dnne.  I  have  travelled 
a  hundred  weary  miles  on  foot  to  deliver 
it  ;  and  leave  all  consequences  to  Him  who 
doeth  all  things  well.' 

The  es<  rtion  made  by  the  djing  man 
was  too  moun.  lie  could  not  speak,  but 
in  answer  to  Kilbadie's  remarks  he  point- 
ed to  Ludovicl^o,  who  signalled  in  return 
that  all  was  right.  Godirey  (ell  back, and 
in  a  brief  space  the  death-rattle  was  heard, 
.•»nd  the  eye  stilTened,  and  the  countenance 
was  changed,  and  an  immortal  spirit  took 
its  flight  fr>'m  earth. 

]t  is  a  tribute  paid  to  mortality,  or  ra- 
ther to  life,  that  the  onlookers  gMze  fir 
some  little  time  after  the  clay  tenement 
has  been  roblw-d  <yf  its  better  part ;  and 
so  it  was  in  this  case.  At  length  litsi- 
gibl>on  took  out  his  watch. 

'  1  am  afraid,'  said  the  leech,  '  thit  I 
must  go  away.  There  is  a  good  deal  of 
sickness  in  the  town  just  now  ;  and  as  it 
never  rains  but  it  pours,  my  lad  has  run 
off.  You  that  are  in  a  public  way.  Mr. 
(Jrant,  conld  you  recommend  me  to  any 
well  educated  youth  for  my  laboratory? 
he  would  be  boarded  in  the  family.  I  am 
sorry  for  Mr.  Graham,  he  must  have  had 
premonitions  thsit  there  was  Bomethiii| 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


25 


orgatiically  wrong,  and  if  people  in  that 
condition  would  only  apply  in  time,  it  is 
incredible  what  the  resources  of  science 
could  do  for  theui  :  not,  indeed,  in  the 
way  of  radicil  cure,  hut  certainly  in  the 
shape  of  prolonjfing  Hie.' 
^  '  In  health  or  in  disease,'  muttered  Lu- 
dovioko,  '  a  man  should  never  delay  the 
le^al  adjuvstment  of  liis  afl'iirs.  VVhere 
there  is  projierty  of  any  extent  to  dispose 
of,  tliere  are  sure  to  be  challenjj;es  and 
delay,  and  litigations  ;  whereas,  if  a  man 
sen  is  for  his  agent,  and  has  a  regular 
Btaiiiped  document,  he  may  die  when  lie 
likes,  iind  no  questiouH  asked.' 

'  Xittl,  gentlemen,'  said  Ivilbidie,  '  the 
one  with  your  ointment,  and  tlie  other 
with  y<mr  parchment,  have  you  thought 
of  a  hereafter,  when  drugs  and  law  will 
be  (if  no  avail  ? 

'  By  tlio  hye,  doctor,'  interposed  Ludo- 
vicko.  not  heeding  this  interruption, '  may 
I  ask  how  you  stand  with  yuur  atf.iirs? 
You  say  there  is  an  epi<iemic  in  the  town  ; 
medical  men  are  gieatJy  exposed,  you 
iintiw.' 

'  Come,  now,  Mr.  Gr.int,  that  is  trying 
it  on  a  little  too  strung.  How  would  vou 
like  if  I  were  to  ask  to  feel  your  pulse  V 

'Oh,  sich  discourse!'  exclaimed  Mar- 
tha, '  and  a  corpse  lying  beside  them.  I 
think  the  house  is  going  nmnd.  Come 
down  to  my  room,  Mr.  Adam,  you  will 
nee<i  some  refresliment.' 

As  Kilhadie  was  about  to  make  his 
exit  in  compliance  with  tnis  kind  invita- 
tion, Ludovicko  called  after  him. 

'  Mr.  .\dam,  bef  »re  you  leave  town  I 
wish  to  speak  with  you  particularly  ;  will 
you  call  at  my  office  V 

Now  it  so  happened  that  amongst  other 
stiff  debts  sent  to  Ludovicko  for  collection. 
Were  those  due  to  Cyrus  lleriot,  tailor 
and  habit- maker,  one  of  which  was 
against  poor  Kill)adie  ;  and,  according  to 
custom,  a  printed  threat  of  prosecution 
ha<l  been  sent  him  by  Ludovicko,  which, 
notwithstanding  his  peripatetic  habits, 
had  actually  reached  the  wandering  di- 
vine. Imagining  that  this  was  the  busi- 
ness referred  to,  Kilbadie  answered  in 
wrath — 

'Min,  I  despise  you!  Cyrus  Heriot 
often  got  my  m on-'y,  and  I  know  of  no 
Dalanoe  due  him,  or  of  usury  thereon.' 

'  Tell  liim  that  it  is  an  old  account,  aad 
la  prescribed,'  whispered  Kankin. 

'  Get  thee  behind  me,  rfatan  !'  roared 
Kilbadie,  who  misinterpreted  this  friend- 
ly advice. 

*  Oh,  certainly,'  said  the  ready  Rankin, 
'  Ciirt  before  the  besom.' 

Kilbadio  and  the  doctor  havin"  left, 
L«<iovJcko  recalled  ^lartha. 


'  Mrs.  Martin,'  said  he,  '  T  must  now 
as  a  notary  public,  seal  up  all  Mr.  Gra 
ham's  repositories.  His  heir  apparent  is 
Mr.  John  Graham.  I  shall  intimate  the 
death  to  him,  and  you  will  take  his  in- 
structions regarding  the  funeral.' 

Martha  bowed  acquiescence.  After 
the  sealing  process  was  gone  through,  Lu- 
dovicko and  Rankin  left  also  ;  and  on  their 
way  home  called  at  the  office  !ind  commu- 
nicated the  intelligence  to  old  Trotter,  the 
head  clerk,  with  instru(!tiims  th  it  ho 
should,  in  his  turn,  call  on  Mr.  John 
Graham.  The  old  man  was  postin>'  his 
huge  ledger  when  the  news  was  brought  to 
him.  He  tinished  his  entry,  for  your 
veteran  book-keeper  cimceives  that  to  be 
sacred  duty  under  all  circumstances 
'  Nicol  and  Fleming  del)tor  to  sundries, 
four  fifty-nine,  three,  ten;  f»lio  132m. 
liless  me,  tliat's  the  lodger,  not  the  cash 
folio.  I'here.  Ah,  well,  *h.  Grant,  man 
and  boy — with  fither,  with  son — five-and- 
thirty  year  !  He  is  a  young,  r  man  than 
me — 1  must  S(>on  follow.  Mr.  Jones,  will 
y(m  see  the  books  in  the  safe' — ;ind  as 
poor  Mr.  Graham  in  no  more,  you  may 
shut  the  office  To-morrow  we  will  be 
here  with  the  shutters  on  to  open  the 
letters.' 

The  old  man  then  proceeded  to  John's 
house. 

'  It's  all  over,  Mr.  John.'  said  poor  old 
Trotter,  in  a  t(me  of  real  grief. 

'  NVhat  is  all  over  V  asked  John. 

'  Y<mr  brother's  gone — died  half-an- 
hour  ago  ;  and  you  are  requested,  as  the 
heir-afiparent  and  chief-mourner,  to  take 
the  ordering  of  the  funeral  ' 

*  Heir-apparent  and  chief-mourner,'  re- 
plied John  with  bitter  irony,  '  who  hag 
given  me  these  titles?' 

'  Mr.  Grant,  the  writer.' 

'  I  thought  :i8  much,  he  is  always  in- 
sulting. I  suppose  I  must  go,  Mrs"  Gra- 
ham 1 ' 

'  Of  course,'  said  his  wife. 

'  Well,  then,  hand  me  my  walking- 
stick.' 

'  Walking-stick,  indeed  !  hire  a  post- 
chaise,  and  let  it  be  included  in  the  fuue- 
ral  exfienses.' 

'  Certainly,  you  are  right.  Mr.  Trotter, 
step  across,  it  you  please,  to  the  Rising 
Sun,  and  order  a  chaise.' 

iVotter  departed  accordingly. 

'Now,  John,'  cmtiimed  Mrs.  Graham, 
'  spare  no  cost.  If  his  m(mey  is  left  to 
other  people,  the  more  they  are  fleeced 
the  better ;  if  to  us,  we  will  be  able  to 
afr)rd  it.  There's  that  girl  crying  m  the 
corner  ;  we  shall  be  pestered  with  her 
lamentations  all  night.' 

The  chaise  having  arrived  in  good  tioM, 


26 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


John  and  Trotter  got    in,  and  it  drove 
off. 

•  What  do  ye  say,  now,  for  my  chance, 
Mr.  Trotter  V 

'  Can't  say,  Mr.  John.' 

'  Would  you  give  me  five  hundred  for 

itr 

'Can't  say,  Mr.  John,  really.' 

•  Would  y(»u  give  me  one  hundred?' 
'  Can't  say.' 

•  Would  you  irive  me  ten  V 
'  Can't  say,  Mr.  John." 

'  Can't  say,  man  ?  What  is  the  use  of 
you  ?  Have  you  not  been  beside  my  l>ro- 
ther  for  the  last  five-and-twenty  years, 
and  have  y<m  never  heard  him  say  any- 
thing about  me  that  would  indicate  his 
intentions  V 

'  We  rarely  ?poke,  Mr.  John,  except  on 
business  sub|ei:t8.' 

'  Well,  but  these  business  subjects 
might  have  turned  the  conversation  to 
me.' 

'  I  believe  it  did  once  or  twice  ;  but  ex- 
cuse me,  Mr.  John,  1  had  rather  that  the 
conversation  had  changed.' 

'  But  I  had  rather  not;  and  that  makes 
a  d'lfference.  W  hat  did  he  say  on  these 
once  or  twice  occasions  ?' 

'  Since  you  press  me,  Mr.  John,  T  may 
take  the  lil)erty  of  remarking  that  when 
you — you — you — paused,  that  is  tlie  word 
— I  had  to  draw  fur  the  divi.ietuis  ;  on 
which  occasion  Mr.  Godfrey  said,  since 
you  will  have  it,  that  you  were  a  low 
Bcoundrel.' 

John  required  no  further  disclosures, 
and  sulkily  threw  hints  If  into  a  recess. 
On  arriving  at  the  castle,  John  gave  some 
routine  orders,  walked  through  the  difler- 
ent  rooms,  eye<l  the  seals  on  the  desks 
and  drawers  with  keen  suspicion,  and  at 
last  descended  the  stairs  on  his  way  out. 
On  passinji  through  a  lobby  he  espied 
Godfrey's  morocco  slippers,  brought  home 
by  one  of  his  shipmasters  from  India,  and 
hung  for  show,  not  use.  Jnhn,  at  l)Ot- 
tom  a  me^tn  man,  could  not  rf-sist  the 
paltry  temptaiiim.  Nobody  was  in  sight  ; 
and  in  an  instant  tht^y  were  in  his  pot-ket. 
How  character  <ioe8  ooze  out  in  small 
things  I  Godfrey  Graham  would  not  have 
done  this  ;  but  he  was  honorable  in  large 
matters,  and  therefore  was  dignified  in 
small  ones. 

Again  the  wheels  of  the  chaise  rattled, 
and  the  two  messengers  to  the  house  of 
death  were  carrird  hack.  Trotter  walked 
home,  the  ]>Tv.y  of  all  kinds  of  incoherent 
thoughts,  and  not  knowing  how  he  would 
now  be  aMe  to  cheek  his  ledger.  John, 
musing  as  uncertainly  as  ever,  also  went 
home.  Sarah  was  still  sobbing,  and  was 
ordered  off  to  bed  ;  while  her  lather  and 


mother  spent  the  half  of  the  night  ia 
speculations  as  to  tht;  future. 

Their  daughter,  Sarah,  was  differently 
occupied.  One  of  the  most  difficult  things 
to  teach  children  is  to  give  thtnu  some 
cimccption  of  death  ;  and  Wordsworth 
lias  philosophically  made  this  the  theme 
of  one  of  his  most  beautiful  minor  pieces. 
Sarah  Graham's  ideas  of  the  hist  enemy 
were  somewliat  different,  however,  from 
those  of  that  heroine  of '  We  are  Seven,' 
and  were  more  akin  to  those  of  Juliet, 
when  about  to  be  iumiolated  to  the  tomb 
of  the  Capulets.  Sarah  thoui:;lit  with  hor- 
ror of  the  nailed-down  affair,  the  yawning 
grave,  and  the  sliuiy  worms  era  wlitii;  over 
a  form  well  beloved  ;  and  then  grinning 
skulls  hovered  over,  and  skeletons  array- 
ed in  shrouds  walked  to  and  fro,  and  ter- 
rors, vague  and  undefined,  were  conjured 
up  in  her  wild  dreams  ;  and  tlien,  as  if  to 
soothe  the  mind  of  the  gentle  jjirl,  and 
make  her  forget  her  wild  iiiiagJMinj;s,good 
angels  smiled  upon  her  ;  and  tt.»wards  mor^ 
ning  she  fell  into  a  quiet  sleep. 

CHAPTFJi  YIII. 
WuEN  a  lord  of  Craigallan  died  in  the 
olden  time,  there  was  much  busstle  and 
pomp.  Armed  clansmen  and  retainers, 
and  clansmen  and  retainers  of  kinsmen, 
poured  in  from  all  quarters.  J'or  days 
defore,  and  tor  daj's  sii(!(ee(iing  the  fune- 
ral, the  wine-cup  flowed,  arid  heer-liarrels 
were  staved,  and  oxen  and  sheep  slaugh- 
tered, and  huj^e  fires  burned  within  the 
castle,  and  huger  fires  without,  in  order 
that  the  great  accession  ot  jjnests  might 
be  fed  and  entertained.  Civilization  has 
shorn  funeral  obsequies  of  some  of  their 
absurdities;  and  as  the  late  owner  of  the 
demesne  was  but  a  mercliant,  who,  ac- 
cording to  heraldry.  h;id  in)  grandfather, 
or,  probably,  pruj/enitcr  at  all,  for  your 
true  armonial  grubbers  despr^^  physiolo- 
gical considerations,  there  was,  (if  course 
a  proportionate  dimitmiion  of  eeremrmy 
in  comndlting  his  ashes  to  their  jiarent 
earth.  One  of  GodtVey's  vessels  happen- 
ed to  be  in  the  harbor  vif  P.iulton,  and  her 
flag  was  hoisted  half  mast  hi^h  ;  and  as 
she  had  to  be  paintetl  at  any  rate,  a  blue 
stripe  was  ordered  round  her  sid<  s,  which 
is  the  nautical  color  of  mourning.  The 
office  was.  of  ciairse,  closed  ;  and  ns 
the  hour  drew  near  the  nurehants  and 
upper  tradesmen  of  Paubon  came  out,  the 
farmers  and  gentry  of  the  neijihborhood 
also  came,  and  a  fl  ick  of  i(ile  boys  and 
girls  hovered  about  the  primipal  enii-anoe-* 
gate  to  gaze  on  the  novel  sight.  The 
hearse  drawn  by  four  fiorses,  (irove  ur> ; 
and  the  mutes,  in  their  grotesque  habili* 
meats,  took  their  etatiun  at  (he  door 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


27 


Inside,  the  mourners  met  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  the  largest  apurtiuent  in  the 
castle.  John  Graham  received  ttiein  ;  his 
manner  pr-isenting  a  curi'ius  coiuhination 
of  taciturnity,  grave  civility,  and  chur- 
lialincsH.  Ludovicko,  as  usual,  was  all 
iiiipenetrahility  ;  the  doctor  aiuiahly  indif- 
ferent ;  whilst  Rankin  put  on  a  most 
knowing  look  when  out  of  tlie  range  of 
Ludovicko's  vision,  and  once  or  twice 
winktid  witli  a  view  to  catch  John's  eye  ; 
but  apparently  the  compliment  was  lost 
on  him,  though  duly,  remarked  l>y  the 
Messrs.  Jones  and  Ogle.  A  prayer  was 
ofil'red  up  by  the  clergyman,  a  glass  of 
wine  was  haridud  round,  and  then  the  un- 
dertaker announced  that  all  was  ready. 
Forthwith  the  guests  entered  the  mourn- 
ing-co  iclu's,  and  the  cortege  was  set  in 
motion.  The  sun  was  high  in  the  hea- 
vens, and  gladness  seemed  to  Uluuiine  the 
whole  face  of  creation.  Birds  sang,  and 
leaves  dropped,  and  reapers  mowed  home 
— liis  turn  to-day,  theirs  to-morrow. 

After  pissing  the  boundary  of  the  es- 
tat'e,  the  funeial  pace  wsis  exchanged  for 
a  brisk  trot ;  and  in  the  space  of  half  an 
hour  the  party,  animate  and  inanimate, 
reached  the  old  churchyard  of  St.  Yar- 
rold — a  spot  (.f  surp;issing  loneliness  and 
beiuty,  and  more  fitted  f  tr  the  last-rest- 
ing-place than  any  of  our  gaudy  cemete- 
ries of  modern  times.  Originally  the 
parisji  church  had  been  there  ;  but  being 
in  a  remote  position,  and  the  building 
much  decayed,  a  new  edifice  wits  ereeted 
several  miles  off,  and  the  old  one  8>itfered 
to  go  to  ruin.  A  new  buriid-ground  was 
opened  in  connexion  with  the  new  church, 
and  little  therefore,  transpired  to  molest 
the  soHtary  reign  ot  'the  auld  kirkyard.' 
Proprietary  ground  was  held  by  Godfrey, 
and  that,  more  than  picturesqueness  of 
appearance,  determined  -John  that  there 
the  remains  of  his  brother  should  be  de- 
posited. The  place  of  sepulture  was  in 
the  mid  He  of  a  natural  amphitheatre,  one 
Bide  l>eing  scooped  out  towards  the  sea. 
All  the  objects  on  which  the  onlooker 
could  gaze  wtre  permanent  and  enduring 
in  their  associ  ttions ;  around  were  the 
everlasting  hills — above,  the  ancient  cano- 
py of  the  sky — before,  old  ocean,  with  its 
ro.tr,  e<!hoing  (jn  all  sides,  and  its  silver 
surge  breaking  on  the  goliien  sand  ;  while 
beneath,  the  rude  fv>refathers  of  the  ham- 
let slet't,  to  wake  no  more  till  that  sky 
•ht  uld  roll  up  as  a  scroll,  those  hills  melt 
away,  and  th.it  sea  give  up  its  dead,  and 
time  l)e  no  niore. 

The  grave  was  ready,  the  coffin  was 
lowered,  and  the  most  s()lemn  of  sounds 
jbe  human  ear  hears  in  this  worM,  the 
gnt  sbuvclful  of  earth  ringing  hollow  ou 


the  lid,  sent  a  tremor  to  the  hearts  of  tTt« 
more  sensitive  ;  gradually  the  sound  soft- 
ened, and  soon  too  ceremony  was  com 
plcte.  The  interested  mourn  rs  drov* 
back  to  the  castle,  the  ni>n-intere8ied  to 
their  several  homes,  dung  iiside  their 
crape  and  weepers,  and,  betaking  them- 
selves to  their  shops  and  farms,  r<  sumed 
their  every-duy  lile  as  il  nothing  iiad  hap- 
pened. Of  all  the  crowded  .ivenues  in 
this  world,  the  most  crowded  of  all  is  that 
one  which  le. ids  out  from  it ;  but  as  theio 
is  no  jostling  in  the  path  oi  death,  its  ser- 
mons are  unheeded. 

John,  Ludovicko,  Trotter,  and  Rankin, 
returned  to  the  castle,  where  they  were 
met  ))y  Kilbadie,  whose  presence  waa 
tolerated  just  because  each  ot'  the  parties 
was  too  intent  on  his  own  thoiigtiis  to  bo 
disturbed  by  ordinary  intrusion.  Follow 
ed  by  the  preacher,  tlie^  went  first  to  the 
library,  and  br.>ke  the  seals  on  the  desks 
and  drawers,  turned  out  their  contents, 
and  rummaged  among  all  sorts  of  papers. 
After  a  hmg  search — 

'  Nothing  there,'  said  John. 

'  Nothing,'  echoed  Trotter. 

They  went  to  the  parlor,  and  examit»ed 
a  small  desk. 

'  Nothing  there,'  again  said  John. 

'  Notliing,'  again  echoed  Trotter. 

The  wiiole  house  was  searched  in  every 
conceivable  place,  and  aid  was  v^iven  by 
Mrs.  Martha,  who  was  human  enough  to 
have  allowed  visions  of  u  legacy  to  float 
before  her  eyes  for  some  time  back,  liut 
still — 

'  Nothing,'  according  to  John. 

*  Nothing,'  according  to  I'rotter. 

John  looked  hard  at  Ludovicko,  but  he 
might  as  well  have  looked  on  tlie  nether 
mill-stone.  Rankin,  who  had  more  cause 
to  look,  also  stared  at  Ludovicko,  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  It  was  not  Joun's  busi- 
ness to  prompt  the  production  of  a  will ; 
but  his  suspense  was  getting  intolerable, 
and  he  could  no  longer  restr.iin  conversa- 
tion with  one  who  must  know  something 
of  the  mystery. 

'  T'here  appears  to  be  no  will  here,  Mr 

Grant.' 

'  Perhaps  there  may  be  one  in  the  office,' 
answered  Ludovicko  drily. 

'  Well,  certainly  if  it  is  there  we  might 
have  been  told  in  time,  and  not  been 
hot'liered  with  a  wild-goose  chase  here  all 
day,'  s.iid  John,  with  some  asperity. 

'  I  say  perhaps  it  may  he  there,'  replied 
the  lawyer  wim  provoking  coolness. 

'  You  know  tUat  it  is  there,  sir,'  retort- 
ed John  fiercely. 

'  Again  1  a.iy  perhaps — but  if  you  speak 
in  this  way,  I  had   belter  go.     It  is  no! 


28 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


the  tone  that  is  generally  o^^spivcii  to  pro- 
fesf*ional  luen  on  occisions  like  this.' 

John  Wits  nervously  anxitms  to  learn 
his  fiite,  and  he  saw  thut  if  Ludovicko 
Wert'  to  go  away  hi.s  suspense  might  l>e  pro- 
tracted, and  ac(!ordin^iy  he  iip()lnjFi.s<.<l, 
and  asked  him  to  acron)pany  thetu  during 
their  reseirch  Jiiiiotij^  the  archives  of  the 
office.  They  had  already  tspent  sorue 
hours  in  the  invesii^:ition  of  the  castle, 
and  it  was  arranjjed  that  the  party  nhould 
partake  of  8(ime  retiestinient  before  leav- 
inji.  While  this  w;i8  preparing,  Kilbadie 
caiue  up  to  Ludnvieko. 

'Sir,'  said  the  preacher,  '  when  you 
were  at  the  bed  nf  death,  you  p;ave  a  Cer- 
tain sii:n;il  as  to  the  portion  of  the  youth  ; 
now  \(iu  only  j;ive  a  peradventure  ;  how 
is  this  ?     Answer  nie,  isir.' 

'  Peradventure,  Mr.  Adam,  you  will  be 
good  enoujih  to  mind  your  own  business.' 

'  SnetT  TiDt  at  me,  sir!  I  am  of  fi;ray 
hairs,  and  in  my  time  have  seen  men  of 
croiiked  policy  like  vou  l)rotight  low.  An- 
swer me  the  pl.iin  qnestinn  ;  is  the  boy 
provided  for,  or  did  (iodlrey  Graham  go 
down  to  the  grave  with  a  lie  from  your 
right  hand  ?' 

'  Mr.  Adam,  I  am  going  to  get  some 
refreshment  with  these  gentlemen,  in  the 
next  room  ;  it  you  pr>  anise  to  behave 
yourself,  I  shall  t.ike  jou  with  me.' 

'  Man,  I  despise  you  !  W'ere  I  to  yield 
to  the  ilictates  of  corrupt  humanity,  1 
Would  KtriKe  thee  to  the  ground  ;  but  I 
leave  you  to  Ilim  who  will  by  no  means 
clear  the  f;uilty.  The  cry  of  the  orphan 
never  yet  tailed  to  rea<-h  the  ear  of  the 
Ixird  of  the  Sal)bath.  I  shake  the  dust 
off  my  feet,  and  leave  you  and  your  mo- 
ney to  perish.' 

'  As  you  please,'  rejoined  Ludovicko, 
taking  a  long  pinch  of  snuff 

Whim  the  party  sat  dovrn  to  t;ible, 
John  cojiiously  hel[)ed  himself  to  wine, 
and  the  exeitement  of  the  bottle  added 
greatly  to  the  feverishness  which  former- 
ly possessed  him.  lie  did  not  seem  in- 
clined to  leave  the  castle  in  any  laste, 
and  his  companions  tacitly  waited  till  he 
should  give  the  signal.  But  his  excess 
was  shared  in  by  ntuie  of  the  com}iany  ex- 
ee]>t  Rankin,  who,  pk-dginy;  equally  with 
John,  begin  at  last  to  manifest  a  loqua- 
city which  required  two  of  LuilovicUo's 
admonitory  looks  to  suspend.  At  length, 
John  [iroposed  that  they  should  adjourn 
to  the  town  to  exaiuine  the  offiee.  In 
passing  throuj^h  tlie  outer  luill  John  shiv- 
•sred,  tor  evening  wns  now  coming  on  and 
the  air  P-lt  chill  Lookinsj  up  to  the  pins 
where  the  slippers  formerly  were,  he  es- 
pied a  lartje  iur  cloak.  lie  took  it  down 
Aod  wrapped  it    round  him ;  he  noticed 


that  Ludovicko  had  hia  eye  intently  fixed 
o  I  him,  but  he  offered  no  remark. 

'  Ttiis  issfrange.'  thoujrht  John  ,  '  that 
lawyer  scouiidr-  I  is  so  intermedoling  that 
the  smdlest  trille  never  escapes  him.  If 
there  had  been  a  will,  he  would  have  been 
sure  to  have  snubbed  me  for  taking  tho 
cloak.' 

They  went  out,  and  in  passing  down 
the  avenne,  John  convulsively  seized  Ran- 
kin by  the  arm. 

'  My  dear,  good  fellow,  for  God's  sake, 
do  you  know  anything  about  it?' 
'  Mum,'  rep)lied  the  clerk. 
'  For  all  the  sakes  of  heaven,  tell  me  !' 
'  Mum — I  signed  it.' 
'Oh,    mercy!'  groaned  John,  and   he 
caught   hold  of  a  tree  to  keep  him  from 
lalliing. 

Kankin  caught  him  in  his  arms,  and, 
pretending  that  it  was  the  change  of  air, 
a.ssisted  him  to  tlie  carriage.  Wf.ile  doing 
so  he  whispered,  "  Nil  d caper andum,  Mr. 
Graham — there's  something  very  queer 
about  all  this.' 

They  came  to  the  office,  lights  were 
proenred,  and  Godfrey's  official  repositories, 
which  were  not  numerous,  were  speedily 
examined,  and  that  most  minutely.  'A'o- 
thinfi,"  said  John. 

'  Nothing,"  echoed  Trotter. 
'  What  am  I  to  make  of  all  this  V  stam- 
mered John. 

'  Whatever  you  like,'  answered  Ludo- 
vicko. 

'Ami  my  brother's  heir  T' 
'  Legally   you    appear   to   be    so    just 
now  ' 

'  Appear  to  be  so  noiv  1  Do  not  torture 
me,  Mr.  Grant.  Suppose  I  were  in  ^i)6- 
session  ju.siyiOio,  would  you  di?turb  me, 
or  make  any  of  your  confounded  pro- 
tests?' 

'  No,'  answered  Ludovicko,  and  turn- 
ing on  his  heel,  walUed  off. 

'Merciful  Heaven!"  ejiiculated  John, 
'  I  really  owni  r  of  Craigall.in — of  all 
my  brother's  houses  and  slops  V 

'  Can't  say  positively,  Mr.  John,'  Siiid 
old  Trotter,  who  was  now  the  alone 
auditor,  as  Rankin  disappeared  whenever 
Ludovico  took  his  leave.  '  I  Jim  n<»  law- 
yer, Mr.  John,  tmt  I  think  if  Mr.  Godfrey 
has  died  without  a  will,  or  having  made 
one,  and  it  cannot  be  found,  I  should  say 
that,  as  his  brother,  you  are  entitled  to 
all.  But  good  night,  Mr.  John;  allovy 
me  to  wish  you  jov,  and  go  home,  for  the 
wind  has  gone  round  to  tlie  east,  and  I 
feel  my  rheumatism  coming  on.' 

So  old  Trotter  shook  hands  with  his  new 
Master,  and  went  musinfdly  home. 

'  Very  cold,'  thought  the  old  aian 
i '  Five  and  twenty  years  in  the  office  wHb 


CRAIGALLAN  CaSTLE. 


Mr.  (Jodfrey,  and  there,  too,  and  there 
too,  with  his  father— inaa  and  hoy  in  that 
office.  My  salary  has  never  l)een  very 
lar^e— have  mentioned  tlie  circuuistanee 
to  Mr.  Gjdirey  too.  lie  prouiised  to  keep 
it  in  view ;  very  odd  that  lie  has  not. 
Don't  like  Mr.  John  ;  the  change  will  kill 
me.  I  ani  turning  old  and  stupid;  I 
have  gone  throe  houses  past  my  own 
door.'  "And  so  the  old  man  retired  for  the 
night. 

Jolin  pursued  his  way  homewards,  and 
hnd  turned  tlie  corner  leading  to  his  own 
street,  wlu-n  he  was  aroused  by  a  tap  on 
the  slioulder. 

'  All  right  old  youth  !'  quoth  Mr.  Ran- 
kin, M  ho  w;is  evidently  under  the  iiillu- 
enee  of  some  artideial  sti.uulant.  _  The 
new  laird,  already  feeling  dignitied  in  an- 
tic! pari  )n,  did  not  hke  the  idea  of  beinjj 
'  hail  fellow  !  well  met !  on  the  part  of  a 
clerk  ;  hut  he  h  id  still  misgivings  as  to 
the  reality  of  his  succession,  and  he  owed 
Boiuethiug  to  Rankin  h(;.sides.  He  there- 
fine  answered  the  rough  salutation  with  a 
shiide  ot  reserve,  and  nothing  more  ;  and, 
accustomed  to  the  check-striug,  Rankin 
modilied  his  tone  also.  '  I  knew  how  it 
■would  turn  out.  Was  not  I  right  in  say- 
ing that  you  should  not  go  to  Austra- 
lia V 

'  You  certainly  were,  Mr.  Rankin,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  you.  Will  you  step  in 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  take  a  rest  before 
going  home  V 

Rankin  assented,  expecting' that  some 
farther  refreshment  would  be  forthcom- 
ing. 

'  Well,  what  newsT  asked  Mrs.  Gra- 
ham, with  eager  curiosity. 

'  No  will,  Mary.' 

*  Not  possible  !' 

*  Probable,  madam,'  said  Rankin. 

'  That  is  very  extraordinary  !  What 
do  you  mean  to  do  Mr.  Graliam^' 

'  fake  possession,  my  dear.' 
But  you  may  be   prevented  or  put 
out.' 

'  Time  enough  to  go  out,  raa'ani,  when 
he  is  put  out.  Possession  is  nine- 
tenths  of  the  law.  Nobody  who  has  an 
eye  to  possession  should  ever  think  of  a 
title.  Let  him  take  possession,  and  let 
those  who  want  to  disturb  show  their  ti- 
tle. That's  the  law,  and  no  mistake. 
You'll  see  it  in  Shaw  and  Dunlop  fifty 
times  ;  also  3  William  and  Mary,  cap. 
70— if  there  be  such  a  cap.,' addel  the 
clerk  in  a  low  tone. 

Notwithstanding  these  authorities,  John 
was  not  f.)nd  of  taking  his  law  from  Ran- 
kin, but  had  no  objection  to  take  some  of 
his  facts. 


'  But  pardon  me,  Mr.  Kankin,  did  you 
not  siy  that  you  had  signed  the  will  '' 

'Certainly,  my  dear  sir,  what  i  thought 
was  the  will.  When  a  man  signs  a  docu- 
ment in  connexion  with  a  party  on  the 
eve  of  being  defunct,  it  is  a  lair  pn'sump- 
tion,  as  tlie  sheritf-substitute  says,  that  it 
is  that  man's  last  will  and  testament  ;-— 
but  wiien  a  man  hops  the  twig,  and  his 
man  of  bu>iness  jtroduces  no  document  of 
a  testimintary  kind,  then  the  presump- 
tion is  that  none  was  executed,  or  if  exe- 
cuted, was  aftv-rwar.ls  destroyed.  Agiin, 
Mr.  Uraham,  take  my  advice,  and  take 
p.)sse8sion.  Go  to  the  castle,  Hve  there, 
draw  the  rents,  and  enj  'y  yourself,  till 
s  iiuebody  comes  forward  to  show  that 
they  have  a  better  right.' 

•  But  they  might  come  upon  me  after 
ward,  and  make  me  nny  np  ;  for,  hating 
me  as  I  know  my  brothor  did,  it  is  not 
c  >nceivable  that  he  has  died  without  a 
will.' 

'  Well,  bless  me  !  how  should  that 
alarm  you  !  Sappose  they  do  come  upun 
you  ;  what  can  anybody  get  otf  you  ?  It's 
ill  taking  tlie — I  beg  panlon  befire  a  lady 
— a  certitin  garment  off  a  llighlandman. 
Ex  hinilo,  &c.,  as  we  are  used  to  say  at 
school.  I  have  been  at  you  pretty  often 
for  money,  but  nevi!r  could  get  a  rap  ;  so 
you  cannot  be  worse  than  you  are  !»y  be- 
ing in  clover  for  a  year  or  two  in  Cr  ligal- 
1  in.  Mm  ige  well,  and  you  may  take  the 
case  to  the  House  of  L  >rds  ;  and  if  Provi- 
dence keeps  old  Eldon  together  he  will 
ke^p  it  there  f»r  a  dozen  summers.  I 
might  commence  business  <m  the  head  of 
it,  and  keef)  Ludovicko  at  bay  ;  although  ■ 
a  man  would  r«  quire  an  infernal  long 
sp  )'>n  to  sup  with  him.' 

Mrs.  Graham  lov.sl  the  arguments^  of 
the  clerk,  but  not  the  clerk  himself.  She 
saw  Craigillan  within  her  grasp,  and 
could  not  brook  the  idea  of  their  poverty 
bein"  broadly  mentioned  in  tue  tone  of 
impudent  fimiliarity  which  Rankin  as- 
sumed. That  young  gentleman  was  slow 
in  interpreting  lier  haughty  tosses  of  the 
hea<l,  and  crowntid  his  disgrace,  in  the 
lady's  eyes,  by  his  next  spt^ech. 

'  VVill  you  kiniily  excuse  me,  Mrs. 
Graham,  but  the  fact  is,  being  drugged 
with  the  wine  at  the  castle,  which  never 
agrees  with  me,  and  being  mel  inchv)ly  at 
the  funtiral,  I  stepped  into  Mrs.  Janet 
Findlay's  in  pissing,  and  had  a  corrective 
to  a  stomach  cramp,  which  I  believe  id 
h-redit  iry  ;  would  ycu  oblige  me  with  a 
glass  of  water !' 

Rankin  th.>nght  that,  hy  8Ugge.sting 
fluidity,  he  miglit  obtain  another  antidote 
to  his  stomachic  derangement. 

'  Miss    Graham '    said    Mrs.  Graham 


Vi 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


with  great  dignity, '  as  Christian  is  asleep, 
and  we  nlwa^s  n-gird  ilio  couifnrt  of  our 
douie><lic8,  do  }ou  think  you  Cuuld  get  a 
glilSS  ol  water !' 

Sarah  kiifw  that  Kristy,  now  for  the 
Crst  time  Ahgli.it<ed  into  L'liristian,  was 
Hsleep,  hiit  ill  her  uiuther's  Imuse  ;  huv- 
mg,  as  the  attentive  reader  may  remem- 
ber, been  stiirved  out  of  the  establish- 
ment some  time  belbre.  She  therefore 
ttared,  not  knowing  that  coming  events 
were  ousting  tliiir  shadows  before.  Ran- 
kin, seeing  that  notliing  but  the  jiure  ele- 
ment was  likely  to  he  forthcoming,  g;d- 
lanlly  declined  the  aid  <if  Miss  Graham, 
and  took  his  leave,  changing  his  course  to 
Mrs.  Findliy's,  instead  of  his  lodgings. 

'  i  have  given  th>se  [leojile  advices  that  | 
a  master  lawyer  would  have  charged  ten 
enineas  for ;  let  me  see  when  they  are  to 
De  grateful.  Certainly  no  sign  of  com- 
mencement to-nigtit.  The  old  woman 
tosses  her  head    like   ^Jacbeth's  wife  ;   liy 


CHAPTER  Xr. 

Great  wns  the  surprise  of  the  inhabi 
tants  of  Paulton  when  they  found  thai 
John  (iraliam  had  estaliiished  himself  at 
Craigallan  ;  atid  in  due  time,  as  we  shiiU 
see,  a  material  difference  took  jilacein  the 
behaviour  of  that  (;ommnnity  tnwaide  the 
new  laird,  his  wife,  and  his  daughter. 
Urjjed  l)y  Mrs.  Graham,  who  in  reality 
was  to  her  hu.sb:ind  what  Lady  Machetb 
was  to  her  liege  lord — John,  on  the  day 
after  the  fun<r;d,  went  out  to  the  castle, 
and  after  surveying  every  hole  and  corner 
about  the  c<!itice,  opening  repositories, 
examining  accounts,  walkirig  aK»ut  tho 
grounds,  and  giving  orders,  wliich  he 
(bund  were  obeyed  to  the  letter,  he  pro- 
longed his  visit,  as  if  by  mistake,  till  Lite 
in  the  evening  ;  and  having  Ordered  a 
bed,  it  was  prepared  for  him  .-iS  rtiidily  as 
if  it  hud  been  an  inn.  In  Iris  peregrina- 
tions John  had  not  overlooked  the  cellar; 
and  havinur  ninrked  the    liinn   where  some 


jingo!  they  had  better  not  halloo  till  they    fif,g^,l,j  (3,.'^;^t,,,l   j,„rt    ^vas    deposited,    he 


ore  out  ol  the  wood.  If  Ludovicko  has  a 
trap  for  them  there  will  be  a  go.  That 
was  a  curious  allusion  that  the  mad 
preacher  made  about  a  son  ;  and,  hang 
Bie  !  Grant  has  been  too  amiable  for  some 
time  hack  not  to  be  after  something. 
Now,  here's  Luckie  Findlay's.  Virtue 
gaya,  Go  to  bed,  and  Resolution  seconds 
the  motion.  Well  done.  Resolution  !  you 
shall  have  a  tri.il.  When?  Mrs.  Find- 
lay,  op'-n  the  door  !  Do  you  hear,  wo- 
BciU,  open  the  d  lor  !' 

'  VV  ho  8  th.  re  '  We're  all  in  our  beds  ; 
and  we  daurna  open  the  door  after  twal 
for  fear  o"  the  ju-^tices.' 

'  H.iw  often  will  yon  women  speak  with 
superfluity  and  with  lying  tongues  ?  As 
to  your  being  in  your  lieds,  that's  a  whop- 
per, tor  1  see  lijilit  b'tween  your  shutters; 
and  as  to  the  ju>stices,  I  am  the  depute 
clerk  ;  and  won't  1  sort  you  next  appeal- 
court,  Luekie  !' 

'  Ii  ye  h  id  but  mentioned  your  name,' 
jaid  Luckie,  drawing  the  bolt,  for  the  ap- 
^al-court  kept  her  in  tcrrorem. 

'Horror!'  said  the  virtuous  Rankin. 
'  Jones  and  Ogle  here  on  the  very  night 
ihat  your  Vilessed  employer  has  been  bu- 
ried— and  you,  SKipton,who  has  so  often 
cheated  him  ?  Mrs.  Findlay,  I  now  see 
that  you  keep  adisorderly  house, and  shall 
repijrt  accordingly.' 

'  What  id  the  news !'  asked  the  two 
elerks. 

'  John  Graham  is  your  master,  that's 
ail.  I  have  been  in  the  house  with  him. 
Mrs.  G.  offered  me  a  friendly  glass  but  I 
declined.' 


onlered  the  coachman,  who,  in  Godlrey  8 
time,  had  been  half  butler,  half  pfistilion, 
to  bring  a  bottle  for  supper.  This,  too, 
was  done  ;  and  under  the  potent  influence 
of  the  generous  liquor,  John's  iniiigination 
warmed,  and  he  saw  before  him  a  noble 
prospect  of  enjoyment  for  years  to  come, 
were  fate  to  allow  him  undihturbed  pos- 
se8si(m  of  the  venerable  jiile  yvhere  he 
was  now  eiijoying  himself  John  yvent  to 
bed,  and  dreamt  of  ea>4y  chiiirs,  car- 
riiiges,  wine,  and  gold  chains  and  rings. 

To-morrow  came,  and  John  sat  long 
over  the  newspapers  in  the  vain  hope  that 
some  intruder  yvould  coiue  and  disturb  a 
state  of  felicity  which  he -could  not  ever 
and  anon  help  thinking  was  of  a  charac- 
ter too  extatic  to  he  permanent.  Nobody 
came.  At  last  John  muttered  to  him- 
self— 

'  Mary  is  right ;  nothing  like  putting  a 
bold  face  on  it.  Here,  coachman,  get  the 
carriage  ready,  and  drive  to  the  office.' 

'  Yes,  sir,'  replied  coachee,  with  a  pro- 
found obeisance. 

The  coach  rolled  along  the  avenue, 
came  to  the  public  road,  and  soon  neared 
the  town  ;  but,  '  infirm  of  purpose,'  John 
pulled  up  the  windows,  and  leant  back  as 
he  drove  through  the  streets.  Arriving 
at  the  ofSce,  he  nodded  slightly  to  Jones 
and  Ogle,  who  returned  !iis  s;ilutition8 
with  deep  reverences,  and  then  going  into 
Trotter's  room  he  shook  hands  with  the 
old  man,  and  finsdly  entered  Godfrey's 
sanctum,  and  took  the  chair. 

'  What  letters  have  you  this  morning, 
Mr.  Trotter'' 

'  Several,  Mr.  John  ;  but  none  of  anj 
importance.' 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


SI 


*  So  I  see.  Ta  future,  Mr.  Trotter,  as 
it  maj  not  t^e  cnnvenit^nt  for  me  to  come 
ia  every  m  irning,  I  wish  them  to  be  sent, 
unopened,  to  the  c;i.slle  ;  an<i  I  .sli:ill  make 
my  rem  irks  on  thniu,  if  necess.iry.  In 
other  respijotrt,  Mr.  Tr  >tter,  you  vrill 
please  to  act  as  you  have  hitherto  done.' 

'Certainly,  Mr.  John,'  said  the  old  man 
meekly. 

•  II  ive  you  tlie  hist  balance-sheet  by 
you,  Mr.    Trotter  V 

'  All  ready,  t*ir,  down  to  twelve  o'clock 
p.  M.  of  the  31st  day  of  December,  18 — . 
I  have  iixv\f,  it  a  p'linc,  mm  and  bi)y,  for 
the  1  ist  thirty  years,  always  to  have  it 
ready  -.vithiu  one  uiontii  of  its  own  date.' 

'  Ah,  quite  ri^ht ;  let  me  see  it.'  And 
John  dev.mred  witli  greedy  eyes  the  tale 
of  property  now  all  but  within  his  grasp  ; 
the  castle  and  estate  of  Craig  illan,  with 
the  farms,  juilU,  and  Hshings  thereon,  all 
unencu(u')ered  ;  tiie  houses,  shops,  ware- 
houses, and  s!ii(is  in  Paulton  ;  the  bank, 
insurance,  canal,  and  other  joint-stock 
shares — all  mmey-yiclding  things  ;  toge- 
the.'  "Vith  the  money  itself  in  actual  de- 
posit in  the  Piulton  Shipping  B.iuk. 

'  I  hope  you  Hu  1  all  right,  Mr.  John,' 
said  Trotter.  '  Mr.  Godfrey  has  dockuet- 
ed  it,  and  I  trust  you  will  also  continue 
to  e.xamine  the  accounts-' 

'  No,  I  shall  not  have  time  for  that.  I 
mean  to  devote  a  good  deal  of  time  to  the 
management  of  the  estate,  and  shall  leave 
your  books  and  ai.'couuts  to  be  examined 
Dj  an  accountant.' 
.  Tpotter  lo  ik^d  pale  at  this  announce- 
ment ;  for  in  Ills  eyes  the  checking  of  the 
books  looked  so  1  irge  an  item  in  the  cirele 
of  human  duty  th  it  he  regarded  it  as  lit- 
tle less  th  in  suicidal  f  »r  any  principal  to 
delegate  such  a  m.itter  to  another. 

'  liy  the  hye,  Mr.  Trotter,  have  you 
any  monev  about  you?' 

'  Yes,  Mr.  John,  I  have  fifty  pounds.' 

'  That  will  ilo  ;  give  it  me.' 

'  Certai[ily,  if  you  wish  it,  Mr.  John  ; 
but  as  sm  ill  accounts  are  always  coming 
in^  I  never  like  to  be  bare.  Here  is  the 
cheque-book  ;  perhaps  you  will  be  kind 
enough  to  draw  what  you  want,  and  al- 
low me  to  ke"p  tliis.' 

John  di.I  n  it  like  this.  The  idea  of 
drawing  on  the  bank  was  a  feat  which  he 
intended  sbould  have  been  the  last  of  his 
achievements ;  but  then  there  was  no 
help. 

To  the  Manag;ers  of  the  Paulton  Ship- 
ping Banf^  Di.hit  my  account  with  One 
Hundred  Pounds  sterling. — JouN  Gra- 
ham. 

'  There  ;  s^nd  out  one  of  the  clerks, 
and  tell  him  to  get  four  twenties,  and  the 
rest  in  email  Dotes,' 


Jones  was  the  bearer  of  the  interesting 
document  to  the  bank 

'  Humph  !'  s  lid  the  teller  :  '  new  name. 
Take  it  to  the  accountant.' 

The  accountant  said  nothing,  but  took 
it  to  the  mauiig-r. 

'  Its  a  queer  iiusiness,  Mr.  Compound,' 
said  the  dark  head  of  the  establishment ; 
'  but  Mr.  Grant,  wht)  latterly  had  thv 
charge  of  Godfrey  Grabaiii's  ail'airs,  told 
me  at  the  mineral  well,  iliis  morning, 
t!iat  no  will  was  to  bo  fmnd  ;  so  that 
there  is  no  help  for  it.  How  he  could  die 
intestate,  knowing  who  was  to  succeed 
him,  will  astonish  everybody.  But  give 
the  monny.' 

And  the  money  was  given  ;  and  John, 
after  desiring  the  coacli  to  wait  at  the 
olB:!e  till  his  return,  proceeded  to  his  own 
dwelling. 

'  What  has  kept  you  V  said  his  gentle 
mate  in  no  amiable  tone.  '  How  coulu 
you  keep  the  people  in  doubt  all  thig 
time  ^' 

'  My  dear,  I  have  purposely  put  off 
time,  in  order  that  if  anyb  idy  was  coming 
forward  they  might  have  an  opportunity 
for  doing  so.' 

*  Is  that  any  reason  why  T  should  all 
this  time  have  been  kept  in  doubt,  think- 
ng  at  one  time  that  you  had  run  oflf  to 
America,  and  another  that  you  had  been 
put  in  gaol  ? 

'  Oh,  woman,  do  not  torment  me  ;  it  is 
enough  that  I  have  suff-redby  you  in  the 
da\s  of  adversity,  without  having  my  life 
embittered  now  that  all  is  right.  B« 
friends,  Mary.  I  have  ordered  wine  from 
»he  cellar  ;  I  have — ' 

'  Of  course  that  would  be  your  first  con- 
sideration.' 

'  Be  quiet,  will  you?  I  have  slept  at 
the  castle, ord-red  the  (varri  ige,  and,  what 
is  best  of  all,  have  had  my  drafts  on  the 
bank  honored.  Look  here  ;  it  is  long 
since  we  saw  notes  like  these.  Now 
butcher  and  grocery  stutfs  are  getting  low 
in  the  castle,  take  some  money  and  order 
some  out.  Cash  in  hand,  no  fear  of  the 
larder.' 

'  Of  course.  Give  me  the  money  ;  but 
not  one  farthing  Dips  or  Cleaver  get.' 

'  Why  not '' 

'  Why  not?  How  stupid  you  men  are, 
to  be  sure  !  Here  are  you  not  sure  if  you 
are  heir  or  not,  and  yet  going  to  pay 
ready  money  to  your  tradesmen,  as  if  you 
were  a  twopenny-halfpenny  unemployed 
cobbler,  in  bad  credit— doing  the  ver] 
th>ng  to  m  ike  you  suspected.  If  the  bank 
trusts  you,  won't  every  other  body  do  it? 
Come  over  with  me  to  Dip's  shop,  and  I 
will  show  you  how  to  manage  these  sod 
of  things.' 


t2 


CRAIGALLAN  CirVSTLE. 


John  obediently  f  llowed  one  wholitei- 
ally  \vii8  his  better  half.  Arrived  it  Dips 
■hop,  the  dauie  at  once  exhibited  the 
strength  of  wuuian's  mission. 

'  Air.  Dips,  send  out  to  the  castle  thn  e 
of  your  b'ft  hani8,aliundred-wfij;ht  ea(;lr 
or  rice,  sago,  and  ta|iii)ca,  and  some  lump 
and  hrown  sugar,  and  six  pounds  of  tea  ; 
everything  ()(  tlie  best,  Mr.  Dips — and  I 
forget  if  the  pass-buok  be  with  you  or 
aie.' 

'The    pass-boo'',    madam!"    said  Mr 
Dips,    wliu  colored   to   the  very  crown  of 
the    head,     for,  being  a    bald    man,  his 
blushes  were  visible  in  the  highest  carnal 
regions. 

'  Yes,  the  pass-book.  We  owe  you 
Bometliing  at  present,  don't  we  V 

O  Mammon,  what  lying  and  dissimula- 
tion dost  thou  cause  in  this  sinful  world  I 
Mrs.  Joiin  Graham  had  been  owing  Dips, 
for  teas  and  groceries,  the  sum  of  live 
jiounds  ten  sliillings  and  threepence,  with 
interest  thereon,  for  three  years.  His 
shopmen  had  dunned  her  with  tlieir 
tongues,  and  he  had  dunned  her  with  let- 
ters, and  had  set  Lud(nicUo  Grant  un 
her  to  boot,  and  yet,  wonderful  forgetful- 
ness !  both  parties  seeuu  d  oblivious  of 
their  previous  transactions. 

'  She  is  going  to  V>e  my  customer  still,' 
thought  Dips,  '  and  I  must  humor  her 
cursed  impudence.' 

*  If  this  hsocrilical  rascal  trusts  us,' 
thought  madam,  '  the  news  will  he  over 
uU  Puulton,  and  everybody  will  do  it.' 

'Passbook,  madam  1'  continued  Mr. 
Dips.  '  Oh,  yes  to  be  sure  ;  well,  exact- 
ly ;  yes,  I  do  recollect  th(!re  was  a  small 
balance  due  l>y  the  castle  fajnily.  1  hope 
none  uf  my  people  (tiasting  an  indignant 
scowl  at  his  shopman)  troubled  you  about 
it.' 

Mrs.  Graham  did  not  deign  to  reply, 
but    enjoined   superiority   ot   quality  and 

{)romptitude  of  despatch,  and  took  her 
eave.  The  party  went  up  the  street,  in 
the  direction  of  Mr.  (leaver,  the  bucher. 
But  what  excuse  could  tliis  poor  man  d^^- 
vise  ?  lie  had  often  molested  John  in 
in  the  streets  ;  and  tradition  had  it  that, 
on  one  occasion,  when  fresh  from  a  fair, 
he  had  seized  the  future  laird  by  the  col- 
lar, and  called  him  a  cheating  humbug. 
Cleaver  had  not  the  face  to  speak  to  John, 
but  hiiving  by  dint,  as  Mrs.  Cleaver  after- 
wards cimfessed,  of  a  well-turned  calf, 
induced  an  upper  nursery-maid  to  leave  a 
good  place,  and  marry  him  between  terms, 
he  concluded,  on  this  occasion,  as  he  had 
often  done  before,  that  he  was  not  with- 
out in&uence  among  the  gentler  sex.  He 
accordingly  left  his  shoj  door,  and  ran  up 
to  the  lady. 


'  Mem,  Mrs.  Graham — if  you  pleadQ 
h^ddy,  I  came  past  the  castle  to-day,  anc 
the  lambs  there  are  very  big  yet ,  hut  J 
have  some  frae  the  south  country  twic« 
the  size — they  are  earlier  there,  you  ken 
— ^just  new  killed.  Will  I  send  out  a  leg 
in  time  for  the  days  dinner,  or  would  you 
like  it  better  the  mnrn?' 

'  To-day,  by  all  means,  Air.  Cleaver. 

'  Yes,  mem,  said  Mr.  Cleaver;  and  h« 
retreated  with  all  imaginable  diligence 
for  John  was  clearly  looking  on  him  with 
an  evil  eye. 

'  Don't  you  see  now  how  I  manage 
things,  Mr.  Graham  V 

John  admitted  what  clearly  was  unde- 
niable, and  they  turned  back  to  their  own 
house,  and  eumnioned  Sarah  to  accom- 
pany them  to  Craig. dlan. 

'  We  require  some  new  drenses  and 
bonnets,  Sirah  and  I  ;  but  really  the 
dress-makers,  and  milliners  in  small  towns 
are  such  horrid  monsters,  I  must  wait  for 
the  next  number  of  the  "  Lady's  Maga- 
zine, '  and  order  those  things  from  Edin- 
burgh or  London ;  but  the  bore  then  is 
that  we  cannot  get  them  tried  on  belbre 
they  are  fairly  made  up.' 

In  proceeding  to  the  office  the  party  en- 
countered Mr.  Rankin,  who  politely  touch- 
ed his  hat,  and  was  about  to  pass  ;  but 
John,  with  dignified  courtesy,  held  out 
two  fingers  to  1dm,  with  a  view,  as  usual, 
to  sounding  as  to  Ludovicko's  inten- 
tions. 

'  I  hope  Mr.  Grant  is  quite  well  to-day 
Mr.  Moffattr 

'  Rankin,  sir,  is  my  name.' 

'  Ah.  yes  ;  you  are  quite  right.  I  have 
such  a  short  memory.  Did  you  say  Mr. 
Grant  was  welH' 

'  I  said  nothing,  sir  ;  and  since  your 
memory  is  so  very  short  there's  little  use 
in  saying  much.' 

'  I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Rankin,  you  are 
easily  offended,  indeed.  llosv  is  Mr. 
Grant?' 

'  He  is  from  home,  and  I  know  nothing 
about  him,'  said  the  clerk  doggedly,  and 
he  walked  on. 

During  the  brief  interview,  Mrs.  Gra- 
ham was  suddenly  seized  with  a  lit  of  me- 
teorohigical  research  ;  for  she  so  gazed  ear- 
nestly on  the  sky  that  she  never  even  saw 
Mr.  Rankin.  But  she  heard  him  ;  and 
Ludovicko's  absence  inspired  her  with 
fresh  courage. 

'  Any  more  letters,  Mr.  Troy;cr  V 

'  None,  Mr.  John.' 

'  Y'ou  will  recollect  to  send  out  thoM 
that  come  by  the  morning  s  post. ' 

'  Yes,  Mr.  John.' 

When  seated  in  the  coach    Mrs.  On 


CEAIGALLAN  C.\STLE 


SS 


ham  found  fault  with  her  husband  for  al- 
lowing Trotter  ti»  c-di  hiiu  '  Mr   John.' 

'  lie  knew  my  brother  and  me  when  we 
were  in  my  fatlier  s  olfice,  and  the  distinc- 
tv>n  was  then  neceooary.' 

'  But  it  ia  not  so  now,  and  I  v^uld  not 
put  up  with  it.' 

On  arriving  at  Craigiillan,  Mrs.  Graham 
found  fault  with  everything.  The  park- 
gate  was  8hibf>y,  the  trees  old  and  rotten-, 
the  cattle  dingy,  neitlier  tish  nor  fowl — 
too  near  Paulton  to  be  in  the  country, 
and  not  near  enough  to  be  c.dled  in  the 
the  town.  If  one  wing  was  at  the  sea- 
side, and  the  other  twenty  miles  up  the 
country,  it  might  be  tolerable  ;  but,  as  it 
presently  stood,  she  had  as  li^f  go  to  jail. 
John  made  a  wry  fice  at  this  alluHion  to 
an  estiblishment  which  had  occ;isionally 
troubled  him  in  his  dreams,  and  he  lieg- 
ged  his  wife  would  not  excite  unpleasant 
reflections.  Pot)r  Mrs.  Marth.i  Martin 
was  sadly  put  about  by  the  many  com- 
plaints ot  her  new  mistress  ;  but  her  chaf- 
ed spirit  well-nigh  burst  into  resolute 
merriment  when,  on  entering  the  draw- 
ing-room, the  lady  complained  of  the 
shabltiness  of  the  furniture,  and  proposed 
that  its  deficiencies  should  be  made  up 
from  her  own  chatties.  Even  John,  who 
recollected  Martha's  visits  was  ashamed 
at  this  sally. 

'  I  have  not  made  up  my  mind  about 
servants,'  said  Mrs.  Graham. 

'  I  dare  say  that,  mem.  When  Lord 
Sulkysnout  died,  his  sister,  L;idy  Mary 
Sulkysnout,  telled  me  to  carry  on  my  ain 
arrangements  for  six  months  till  she  had 
time  to  think  about  it.' 

That  speech  saved  Martha.  To  have 
a  housekeeper  who  had  been  housekeeper 
to  -a  lord  was  something.  Mrs.  Graham 
could  pick  up  hints  about  aristocratic 
usages  which  might  be  serviceable  ;  and 
then  she  could  put  Martha  about  her  bu- 
Bioess  any  time  after. 

'  Her  ladyship  was  quite  right,  as  real 
ladies  always  are  ;  and  I  shall  do  the  same. 
You  have  a  cook  and  kitchen-maid  ;  that 
might  do  very  well  before,  but  it  won't  do 
now.  We  shall  require  a  lady  s-maid  for 
miss  and  me,  and  a  tbotman,  or  say  a 
tiger  at  first ;  and  will  you  see,  Mr.  Gra- 
ham, that  they  have  something  like  livery 
put  on  them  !  1  declare  the  man  that 
drove  us  to-day  was  so  ill-dressed,  that 
the  people  on  the  road  must  have  taken 
him  for  a  ha<;kney-coarlimaii.  When  we 
are  out  of  mourning,  Mr  Graham,  I  think 
the  livery  must — Miss  Graham,  will  you 
keep  you  shouMers  back  ' — if  you  stand 
that  way  we  must  got  dumb-l)ells  for  you  ' 
-^oiut    be,  I   say,  green  coats  and   red 


'  plush  breeches,  with  gold  hatband ;  that 
will  he  stylish.' 

And  so  on  gabhl  d  Mrs.  Graham.  As 
for  M.irtlia,  she  slipped  off  to  meditate. 

'  I  never  can  livu  wi'  that  woman,  it's 
clean  impossible.  An  upsetting,  prideful 
limmer,  that  come  frie  poverty,  forgets 
herself  the  very  minute  o'  her  exaltation. 
It's  the  auld  story  .  tak'  a  begjiar  frae  a 
dunghill,  and  f>ut  him  on  a  throne,  and 
wliit  will  he  no  do  I  And  what  will  I  do  T 
I  am  no  auld  enough  to  retire  ;  and  I  am 
no  young  enough  to  tak'  a  new  place.  Ill 
just  fecht  on  fl)r  a  time  ;  its  the  will  o' 
iVovidence,  and  may  I  l)e  granted  grace  to 
keep  frae  braking  out  wi'  such  a  madam, 
•\nd  there's  her  puir  bairn  ;  I  wish  sho 
m  ly  na  be  spoiled  v\ith  the  evil  exam- 
ple." 

Sarah  wandered  along  the  flowers,  and 
painfully  recalling  the  first  interview  she 
had  with  her  uncle.  She  stopped  out  much 
longer  than  ^he  intended,  vainly  tryini;  to 
conceal  traces  of  her  grief,  knowing  w^ll 
how  displeasing  tears  would  be  to  her  mo- 
ther. On  returning  to  the  castle,  prepa- 
rati(ms  were  already  making  for  an  early 
supper,  and  two  bottles  of  the  crusted  port 
were  on  the  table.  A  tempting  repast 
was  spoken  of  to  Sarah,  hut  she  excused 
herself;  and  saying  she  was  not  weH,  peti« 
tioned  that  she  should  be  allowed  to  go 
to  bed.  Mrs.  Martha  appeared  for  the 
purpose  of  conducting  her  to  her  new  apart- 
ment. On  passing  up  stairs  Martha  mo(jd- 
ily  ui'ttionod  the  candle  towards  a  door  ; 

'  That  is  where  poor  Mr.  Graham — ' 

'Don't  mentim  it,'  said  Sirah,  v\hu 
trembled  fnim  head  to  foot.  '  Mrs  Mar- 
tin, will  you  do  me  a  favor,  a  very  great 
favor  V 

'  -Me  iiinny  I     1 11  do  onything  yo  like.' 

•  \\"i[\  you  let  me  sleep  in  yjur  own 
room  ?  for  I  could  not  sleep  here  alone. 
I  would  be  dead  with  fright  before  morn- 
ing.' 

'  But  what  would  your  mother — I  beg 
pardon  Mrs.  Graham — say?' 

'  I  can't  helji  it.  When  I  am  old  I  may 
sleep  by  myself  ;  but  I  cannot  do  it  just 
now.  Come  away.  I  think  I  see  somo- 
body  ;  it  is  so  dismal  here.' 


CIIAPTKR   X, 

'  I  .AM  going  on  a  journey,  and  I  m.ay 
not  be  home  for  a  day  or  two,'  said  Ludo- 
vicko  to  Rankin  one  miming.  '  When  I 
am  away,  make  up  the  partnership  ac- 
counts twtween  Eel  and  Skinflint ;  draw 
out  an  indenture  for  Swan,  the  haber- 
d-.isher's  apprentice  ;  scroll  a  particular 
aviTage  for  the  flour  thrown  overboard  tht 
John  and  Thomas;  aad    writo  Neil  and 


*^ 


S4 


CTIAIG  ALLAN  CASTLK. 


CSamcron's  outstanding  deMors  that,  if 
not  [iiijd  witiiin  a  fortnight, diii.'t^m-.-  win 
be  uai'd  ;  and  ifyuu  hiiv«  any  time  left  on 
your  hands,  du^t  out  the  book-uiiso.  It 
19  a  di^gr^ice  to  be  seen.' 

'Tiin''on  my  hands,'  Si^^l  Riinkin  sulki 
ly.  '  Ii'you  are  to  be  away  for  a  luonih 
{  inij£ht  have  some  ;  but  il  yu  are  to  b^^ 
away  ordy  fir  a  day  or  two,  I  Nhall  not 
foe  able  to  do  more  than  one  lialt  of  the 
things  that  you  mention.' 

'  No  imjnrlinenoc,  sir  !'  And  Ludo- 
vifko  turned  on  his  heel  to  walk  off 

'  Ifany  letters  should  come  for  you, 
shall  1  (fjten  them  mystlf,  or  give  thtMii  to 
anybody  to  open  ?  In  my  old  inasttr's 
time  woniebody  was  always  ajipointed  to 
Open  tiu-m.' 

'  Krep  them  till  I  come,'  wiis  tlie  mild 
rejily  of  LuduvicUo,  wlio  left  the  office. 

'  .Always  the  way,'  ejacnfited  the  clerk. 
'  Close  as  wax  ;  kecips  every  ihiiijr;  to  him- 
Bell;  hut  he  ean"t  always  do  that.  L<"t 
me  see,  now  that  he  is  clear  off.  what  lie 
char-^es  for  his  trouhje  iti  tl-ie  Craif^allaii 
bu>in.-ss.  The  day-hook  entry  should 
throw  some  lijjht  on  the  nature  of  the 
document  which  I  witnessed.  Auo;ust, 
September — ^no,  nothinjr  whatever.  Tfiere 
is  some  ioit-rnal  mystery  here.  Grant  is 
not  the  man  to  work  for  nothing;  he  had 
a  jrre.tt  deal  of  trouble  iw  the  matter,  fi-om 
first  to  last,  and  yet  tliere  is  rn)  chai-j^'-  for 
it.  Can  Graham  huA'e  paiil  hiui  before  lie 
died!  If  he  did,  what  did  he  pay  him 
for'  There's  the  rub.  Jones  tells  me 
that  Jolin,  the  sneak,  has  hiid  hold  of 
ever\  tiiiiij^,  and  without  challenge.  You 
are  a  (i.ep  one,  Mr.  Ludovicko  Grant,  as 
the  tiucket  said  to  ttie  well,  but  1  shall 
find  \ou  out  yet  ' 

Following  up  the.se  meditations,  Mr. 
Rankio  tried  all  the  desks  and  drawers  in  , 
Lud  i\iiko's  room,  but  all  were  duly  se- 
cured ;  he  then  tried  fiis  own  bunch  of 
ieys  on  every  lock  in  succession,  but  to 
no  purpose  ;  and  finally,  he  overhauled 
porttolms  and  blotters,  in  the  hope  that 
Bome  loose  per  ip  or  memorandum  would 
tumble  out,  and  assist  him  in  finding 
BOiiie  clue  to  the  object  of  his  search  ;  l>ut 
this  es[ieriuient  was  als')  unattended  with 
■uccess.  The  clerk  then  took  (tut  a  novel 
from  his  desk,  and  taking  his  position  in 
Bueli  a  way  that  he  could  command  the 
•window,  and  secrete  the  volume iu  case  of 
Luiioviekos  returra — for  it  was  no  uncom- 
mon thing  for  that  gentleman  to  reappear 
suddenly,  after  announcing  himself  as 
about  to  go  into  the  country — his  assistant 
took  his  depurture  from  the  world  of  re 
ality  into  that  of  imagination,  anu  whetted 
.his  capacity  fur  mYStery-soluiiim  by  dip- 
^ng  into  detiiila  of  death-blows  and  poi- 


sonings, done  by  ag'^nts  visible  and  inTit- 
ihle;  and  so,  le-vit)g  the  assistant  to 
amuse  himself  in  this  way.  we  must  track 
the  foo(8'epH  of  the  prineiptl. 

Grant  l  It  town  oti  foot,  and  f>etook 
himself  to  a  farm  in  the  neighborhood. 
On  approaching  the  house  he  met  tho 
farmer,  and  assailed  him  roughly. 

'  You    paid   no   attention  to  my  letter, 

Mut(!h.' 

'  No,  sir,'  rejnined  jMutch,  'T  had  no- 
thing to  siy  to  it.  I  have  worked  aa 
hard  as  mm  could  work  for  the  last  fifteen 
ye  irs.  I  have  had  a  large  family  to  sup- 
port, things  have  gone  against  me,  and  I 
really  <rauuot  lielp  not  being  aldti  to  pay 
the  rent.  At  first,  the  idea  of  being  a 
rtingle  pound  fiebind  wou^d  have  made  me 
aliniist  cry;  but  now  I  m  accustomed, 
and  have  got  perfectly  desperate.  1  can 
evi  n  think  o'  tiie  wife  and  the  b  .irna  be- 
ing turned  out  on  the  wide  woild  with- 
out  ' 

'  I  liid  not  come  here  in  order  that  yeu 
might  preich,'  said  Ludovicko. 

'  No.  sir,  I  ken  that,"  s.iid  poor  Mutch-; 
'  but  if  you  would  just  get  the  laird  to 
lower  tiie  rwut — ye  keu  its  ower  high  hj 
fir — and  then,  if  God  s{iared  me  with 
health,  1  would  try  to  luube  up  the  ar- 
rears in  time.' 

'  Wuuld  you?'  asked  Ludovicko,  Rati- 
rically.  '  You  have  been  indulged  too 
lont;,sir  :  and  all  that  I  have  to  say  is, 
tliat,  if  the  arrears  are  not  paid  in  four- 
teen days,  you  must  quit  '      • 

Amf  waiting  for  no  reply,  the  factor 
walk.d  off  and  pursued  his  way.  In  a 
bri'  f  space  the  mail-coach  came  up,  and 
[jiidovicko  t<jok  his  seat  as  a  passenger. 
He  was  none  of  your  cosmo|)olitan  travel- 
lers who  exchange  civilities  with  their 
tellow-tonrists,  or  who  practise  acuteness 
by  endeavoring  to  find  out  the  professions, 
residences,  anil  opinions  of  all  who  are  in 
the  same  conveyance.  Our  Iri-  nil  had  no 
idea  of  i  il)or  in  vain;  and  so,  wrapping 
liiiasi  li  up,  he  pursued  his  own  train  oi 
th(aigf)t,  or  occasionally  listened  to  tho 
current  of  conversatiim,  as  it  seemed  to 
affect  business  ;  and,  alternately  think- 
ing and  heai'ing,  his  journey  came  to  an 
end. 

Ludovicko  left  the  coach  at  a  cross- 
road, which  was  the  same  pathway  th.'i.t 
Kiib.idie  had  pursued  on  the  fair  night 
when  the  ill-lated  marriage  fiad  be<jn 
solemnised.  The  farm  house  iiad  (Oianged 
little  in  appearance.  Its  prop,riet>>r  be- 
ing of  the  old  school,  modern  improve 
nients  had  been  but  sparingly  adopted 
and  having  for  live  years  outlived  hit 
partner  in  life,  Andrew  jMurray,  the  agi^l 
uncle  of  Ludovicko,  was  fast  sinking  into 


CR.UG.VLLAN  CASTLE. 


^ 


dotage.  No  rival  stood  forward  to  shrire 
the  small itiheriuanue  with  Ludovicko,  now 
that  (1  (or  M.iry  was  gone  ;  and,  indeed, 
had  s  le  heen  ;ili^'e  tliere  would  ha^**  h  en 
Iittl(!  cSiance  of  u  siib.livisi  >n,  for  Ludo- 
vi'-k  I  had  taken  care  to  cram  his  uncle 
and  aucit  with  the  story  of  her  apparent 
Bhj  11'^.  Tue  aunt,  a  purist,  as  ruost  wo- 
ta"i\  of  propriety  are,  hid  ni  pity  for  lost 
inoocMCe  :  hut  the  j^rood  old  uaele  tlirew 
the  !a;r  robe  of  clurity  over  the  supposed 
fall  of  ds  niece,  ari<l  blamed  in  sticret  the 
rut  dess  destroyer  who  had  ta  en  fro  u 
his  eyes,  although  not  fr  >  u  his  heart, 
that  blue-eyed,  happy  cliilt,  wbos^  elear, 
riii^iu;;  laugh  had  so  ofceu  ui  ide  his 
hoiu-ste'id  happy.  The  old  mm  had 
m.de  ti  >  will  ;  he  knew  that  the  two 
cougius,  Ludovioko  and  Miry,  were  his 
heirs-at-laAf,  and  therefore  did  n  tt  think 
it  nii!'s3iry  tuit  any  steps  should  be 
ta'<eii  t »  guiile  tfjedescioati  m  of  his  little 
pripertv.  lustig.ited  by  Ludovie  o,  his 
wife  ha',  attempted  more  than  once  to  s^t 
asi  le  M  iry  ;  but  the  old  m  m  w  is  firm  to 
h\<  (lurpose,  and  his  res  iluti  »n  h  id,  of 
course,  anti.tyed  the  gr.ispinj;  lawyer.  B.it 
now  t  le  ground  wis  quite  elear  ;  an!  had 
necessity  required,  he  was  prepared  to 
join  ill  ,i>iy  tribute  t'lat  might  be  paid  to 
his  e ousiu's  memory. 

On  attempting  to  converse  with  old 
MuiTiy,  his  nepti^w  f  lu  id  his  int'dleet 
BJiaroered.  Ou  tlie  servant  shouting  the 
o  lui !  ol"  his  visit(jr,  he  muttered  some- 
tliiu^  about  , his  hiving  come  after  the 
usu  il  school  vacation. 

'  If,'  continued  he,  '  he  had  come  soon- 
er, I  coul  i  have  given  hiui  a  p  my  to  ri  le 
on,  but  it  is  sold  ;  hut,  Je  m,  tell  the  mis- 
tress tliat  he  must  be  hunj»;ry,  an  I  give 
him  some  hreid,  and  some  of  the  new  ho- 
ney. Tell  Miry  tiiat  her  cousin  has 
C<>(ue  ' 

'  Never  mind  him,  sir,'  said  the  domes- 
tic, seeing  that  Lud  ivicko  was  a'>out  to 
Bpeik.'  he  11  no  und'rstml  you  ;  bit  just 
let  him  rin  on  wi'  his  havers,  and  he  II 
Cum'!  to  himself  hy-aud-hy.' 

There  was  method  in  tliedjtage  of  her 
Miscer,  as  Jeia,  his  servaat,  had  prediiit- 
ed.  .Seeing  no  attention  paid  to  Iiis  or- 
jers,  he  started  m  iin -.ntarily,  aad  then 
6roKe  out,  pathetically — 

'  A'l,  (lOd  help  me  !  Mari^  iret  is  gone, 
And  1  h  id  forg  »tten  it,  ;ifid  the  p  )or  hiiirn  ; 
b>ti  it  ivis  a  mercy  that  her  f ither  and 
motiier  died  before  her,  an'l  never  heard 
0  h.T  8. lir  mishap.  Vou  need  n  i  sjie.ik 
to  me,  M.irg  iret,  if  M  try  has  done  any 
■wrong.' 

*  Does  he  not  know  of  my  cousin's 
ieatb  r  aaked  LudovicbLO. 


*  Yes,'  said  the  domestic,  *  but  he  far 
gets.' 

*  Who  did  you  say  w\s  dea<i  ?*  asked 
the  old  man.  '  Is  everyl)ody  to  die  and 
leave  me  here  V 

'No,'  s  lid  Jean  ;  '  here  is  your  nephew, 
Mr.  Lud  ivieko,  come  to  see  you.' 

'  Ludovicko  ?  Ludivicko  ? — aye,  aye, 
the  c  luldest  among  th^m  a".  I  diiina 
care  f  jr  hiiu ;  let  me  awa  and  get  my 
sle^'p.' 

M  ist  men  would  have  been  chagrined  at 
a  recepti  m  such  as  this  ;  but  Luilovieko 
had  so  drilli^d  hiuis-lf  into  the  habit  of 
si'lf  com.posure  tli  it  n  itiing  appan-n'ly 
disturbed  him,  and  few  things  did  s  >  in 
reality  lie  di  1  n  it  even  look  up  into 
Jean's  face  to  see  if  any  suale  of  triumph 
hovered  there,  but  contented  himself  with 
jisking  if  his  uncle  evr  required  thft  at- 
tendance (if  a  medieil  mm;  and  being 
assured  that  he  did  not,  Ludoviirko  w;i9 
sotiiewh  it  puzzled  as  to  how  long  he  would 
have  to  wair  for  trie  inlieritance. 

'  lie  is  not  able  to  man  ige  his  own  af- 
fairs ''  8  li  i  he. 

'  Let  him  alone  for  tliat,'  rejilied  the 
Abigiil.  'lie's  aye  crying  to  g't  the 
eirii  sold  b'dbre  it's  weel  cut,  and  he  kena 
the  price  as  weel  as  ever  he  did  ;  and  he 
g"ts  bimsel'  c  inied  to  the  hank,  and  puts 
the  silvi-r  in  ;  hut  there  is  no  such  i  thing 
'  as  getti.ijj  him  t-i  t  ik'  out  a  siusjle  b  iwfiee 
again.  VVe  are  a'  stirved,  and  things  ar6 
giun  ti  wreck  wi'   his  grippiness.' 

Fulling  that  m  ittf^rs  were  conducted  in 
this  fis'iion,  Ludovicko  felt  an  iiuvard 
y;le  im  of  s  itisf.ii;ti  m,  and  took  a  leisurely 
survey  of  the  est  iblishment.  lie  found, 
as  the  worn  m  had  st  itfd,  that  there  waa 
no  little  disorder  and  waste  ;  but  his  re- 
proofs produced  nothing  from  the  1  iborera 
but  the  sullen  response,  that  he  *  was  not 
their  master  yet ;'  and  so  lie  t<iok  his  leave, 
■ml  b.nt  his  steps  to  ttie  country  toA'o, 
where  he  trinsietad  different  kinds  of  hu- 
siness  that  does  not  fall  under  our  notice. 

In  the  m  irtiing  he  ;ig lin  took  co^iidi  in 
a  dir'Ction  dilTrent  from  that  by  which 
he  bad  arrived,  and,  after  a  j  mrni'V  of 
s  line  length,  was  at  sunset  set  ilowii  be- 
side a  eoitige  of  mean  ;i[i|it'ar  mee.  The 
stopping;  of  the  vehicle  h  td  hroui^ht  out 
its  iiim  it"S,  a  woman  and  two  hoys,  ap- 
pirenrly  about  twelve  years  of  age. 

'  Iveep  biek,  Ned,  out  of  the  gentle 
m  m  8  way  ;  that  boy  is  always  in  people's 
way'  Keep  bac'i,  sir  I  Uo  ye  hear?' 
said  the  fern  ile. 

(Jont inning  her  address,  she  beckoned 
Lulovii;ko  into  her  dwelling. 

'  It's  but  a  poor  house  fir  a  gentleman 
like  you,  sir  ;  but  it's  clean,  sic.  Will 
you  shut  the  door,  Ned?  or  are  you  4c 


36 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


let  a'  the  bairns  o'  the  country-side  look 
in  ?  Don't  stand  there  with  your  fingir 
in  your  mouth  v\  hen  a  gentleman  is  in  the 
house,  hut  go  into  the  corner  there,  will 
you  ?  He's  a  snivelling  thing,  sir,  for  a' 
that  I  have  done  lor  his  education.' 

Luditvicko  paid  little  attention  to  these 
aduionitt/ry  hints  ;  accustomed  to  observe 
more  than  to  listen,  he  hfid  silently  Ijeen 
taking  the  measurement  of  the  two  buys.  I 
The  snubbed  youth  was   a  pale,  delicate, ' 
and  shy-kjoking  lad,    having   an  evident 
weaknew  about  his  eyes  ;  and,   from  the  | 
fact  of  his  being  snubbed,  it  was   pretty 
evidi  nt  that  he  was  not  the  youth  that 
he  was  in  quest  of.     The  other  was  of  a  j 
Btouti-r  make,  with  short,  crisp  black  hair, 
unabashed    eye,   and    otherwise  of  bold  \ 
bearing.     That  was  the  boy,  if    the  Lm-  i 
guage    of    nursi^s    had   any  signification  ; 
and  that  in  this  instance    it  had    Widow 
Turner's  appearance  and  demeanor  broad- 
ly indicated.     This  person  was  of  deter- 
mined physiognomy,  while  her  manner  of 
Bpeec4»  was  smootli  and  honeyed  ;  and,  to 
an  acute  man  li^e    Ludovicko,    bore   evi- 
dence that  Mrs.  Turner  could  letloose  the 
floodgates  of  a  more   animated  eloquence 
than  her  tongue  had  yet  found  it   conve- 
nient to  assume. 

'  This,'  said  Ludovicko,  pointing  to  the 
stronger  youth,  '  is  Mrs.  Morison's  son  ?' 

'  Yes,  sir  ;  it's  easy  seen  that.  WiJly 
ite  a  stout,  pretty  fellow  ;  bnt  Ned  there 
has  alwajs  been  a  silly  thing,  and  aye 
complaining  and  crying  about  some- 
thing.' 

'  I'he  other  boy  is  your  own  son,  I  sup- 
pose V 

'  Aye,  sir.  and  a  sair  handful  I  will  hae 
wi'  him.  His  father  was  killed  in  the 
quarry  up  there  ;  and  if  he  had  only  been 
a  stout  hoy  like  Willy,  he  might  hae  been 
o'  some  use  to  me  ;  but,  stupid  thing  ! 
he'll  be  a  perfect  drag  upon  me.' 

'  I  am  come  to  take  young  Morison 
eway.  I  mean  to  take  him  into  my  own 
©flice,  and  bring  him  up  as  my  nephew.' 

'  I  thought  as  much,  sir.  I  am  sure  he 
vill  please  you,'  said  the  hypocritical 
widow  ;  'he  is  a  very  clever  boy.  And 
when  he  is  a  gentleman,  I  will  be  left 
with  Ned,  who'll  snivel  on  worse  than  ever 
if  Willy  were  off.' 

'  Is  your  own  boy  anything  clever  at 
his  1«  ssons?' 

'  Oh,  on  that  part  I  have  naething  to 
say  ;  the  schoolmaster  says  that  he  would 
be  a  good  scholar  if  he  could  see  right.  I 
ken  tiiat  he  is  not  whipped  so  often  in  the 
rcho'd  as  Willy  ;  but  that  is  because  he 
lias  not  the  spunk  to  do  mischief,  and 
Ttaybe  because  the  master  does  not  think 
kkin  worth  the  threshing.' 


'  There's  a  friend  of  mine,'  said  Ludo 
vicko,  '  a  medical  gentleman,  who  wishea 
a  l)oy  to  keep  his  drug-shop.  If  he  would 
suit  that,  it  would  be  n  very  good  place 
for  him.' 

'  Oil,  sir,  you  are  very  kind.  Ned,  will 
you  thank  the  gentleman  1  I  declare  the 
creature  is  crying  A  pretty  fellow  will 
you  be  in  a  shop.' 

'  In  towns,'  resumed  the  patron,  'boya 
are  exposed  to  bad  company.  JNow,  if 
Morison  were  disposed  to  associate  with 
your  son,  it  might  keep  him  out  of  harm's 
way  ;  besides,  it  would  for  a  time  keep 
him  from  being  lonely  in  a  strange  place.' 

Again  said  the  widow — '  You  are  very 
kind,  sir  ;  but  it  will  not  long  do  for  a 
poor  woman's  son  like  mine  to  be  keeping 
company  with  a  rich  boy  like  Willy  Mori- 
son.' 

Ludovicko's  brow  darkened,  and  he  or- 
dered the  boys  to  play  out^of  doors.  Af- 
ter they  had  disappeared,  he  politely  ad- 
dressed widow  Turner  as  '  Woman,'  and 
inquired  what  she  knew  about  the  boy 
being  rjch. 

'  I  dinna  ken,  sir,'  was  the  equivocating 
reply  of  the  female. 

'  Come,  no  humbug  with  me.  What 
ground  have  you  for  supposing  the  boy  to 
be  rich  ?  Recollect  that  your  son  is  not 
yet  off  your  hand,  and  that  your  board  is 
not  yet  paid.  Answer  me  truthfully,  or 
I  shall  find  means  of  punishing  you,  al- 
though ii  should  be  years  after  this,  and 
you  should  go  hundreds  of  miles  away! 
What  makes  you  suppose  that  the  boy 
will  have  money  V 

'  His  mother  told  me  so.' 

'  And  you  believe  a  woman  who  died  in 
a  madhouse  !'  retorted  the  lawyer,  with  a 
double-distilled  sneer. 

'  She  told  me  the  same  thing  before  she 
I  went  (mt  of  her  mind.' 
I      '  Well,  and  whatdid  she  tell  you  ?  Did 
she  explain  how  he  would  be  rich  V 
I      '  She  told  me  that  she  had  been  private- 
ly married  to  a  rich  gentleman,  and  that 
he  would    own  Willy  and  make   him  hia 
heir.' 

'  Did  she  mention  any  names  V 

'No.' 

'  Yo«  say  that  hesitatingly.  Did  she 
or  did  she  not  mention  names?' asked 
Ludovicko,  sternly. 

'  Well  bless  me!  what  a  fuss  you  are 
making !  She  did  speak  some  names  ; 
but  I  had  something  else  to  do  than  to 
mind  them.' 

'  Well,  i*t  is  of  no  consequence — none 
whatever  ;  the  marriage  was  not  regular, 
the  father  is  dead,  and  a  brother  has  come 
in  for  the  whole  property  ;  and  the  hof 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


37 


■  as  poor  as  your  own 
leave  any  papers  ?' 

'  Yes  ;  she  left  some,  and  others   went 
in  her  trunk  to  the  asylum.' 

'  Sliow  me  them  ' 

After  some  rumaging,   a   pocket-book 


Did  my  cousin  of  the  presiding  ofiBcials — how  they  mak« 
the  different  orders  uf  nolnlity  follow  each 
other,  making  g^ips,  now  and  then,  for 
chancellors,  archbishops,  and  bishops; 
how  niiiely  they  adjust  the  condi>;ciug 
claims  of  judges,  amba>is:idors,   officers  ot" 


and  writing  portfolio  were  pniduced,  the  :  the  army  aud  navy,  divines,  physicians, 
contents  of  which  were  hastily  examined  &c.  ;  and,  above  all,  how  sternly  hishops' 
by  Ludovicko.     Tliey  consisted  mainly  of  i  and  judgf's'  wives  are  sent   to  tiie  bottom 


tradesmen's  accounts,  and  were  of  no 
value. 

*  Had  she  none  besides  these  V  h«  in- 
quired. 

'  None,'  replied  the  widow  ;'  except,  as 
I  said  before,  what  went  away  with  her.' 

'  She  must  have  had  some  besides 
these,  for  none  of  my  own  letters  are 
hese.' 

'  Sometimes  she  burned  papers.' 

*  How  far  is  the  asylum  Irom  this?' 

*  Seven  miles.' 
'  Well,  I  shall  go  on  there  to-night,  and 

you  can  have  the  boys  ready  to  go  with 
me  in  the  morning  as  the  coach  returns. 
I  hope  you  have  never  allowed  your 
woman's  toolish  tongue  to  talk  to  the  boy 
about  money?' 

'  Not  to  him.  Who  would  speak  to  a 
bairn?' 

'  I  don't  believe  you  ;  there  is  a  lurking 
devil  in  your  eye  ;  you  have  opoken  to 
him ! ' 

*  If  [  have,  it  can't  be  helped  now.' 
'  For  the  future,  then,   not  one   word  ! 

Do  you  understand  me  ?  Is  the  woman 
mad — why  don't  you  speak?' 

*  I  was  thinking.' 

'  What?' 

'  Don't  be  so  ill-natured.  I  was  think- 
ing that  if  there  was  not  some  money, 
you  would  not  be  taking  such  pains  to 
speak  to  me  about  it.' 

'  Ha  !'  cried  Ludovicko,  '  that  is  a  sen- 
sible remark,  and  you  are  right  to  speak 
of  it.  Here  is  my  reason  ;  I  ttike  the  boy 
for  charity,  and  am  to  give  him  an  oppor- 
tunity iif  making  his  bread  bj?  serving  me 
faithfully  as  a  clerk  ;  hut  am  I  to  have  a 
brat  about  me  who,  thinking  he  has  mo- 
ney, will  give  himself  airs,  and  will  not 
only  not  work  hiiuself,  but  corrupt  others  ? 
That  is  my  reason  ;  and  tlierefore,  if  I 
thought  that  he  h;id  any  such  notions  as 
these,  [  should  leave  him  to  shift  for  him- 
self.' 

Ludovicko  left  the  widow,  and  went  to 
the  asylum  ;  but  there,  too,  no  marriage- 
certificate,  the  object  of  his  search,  was 
to  be  found. 


CHAPrER  XI 
In  regulating  the   procedure  of  levees, 
processions,    and    other  stately   ceremo- 


of  the  roll,  irrespective  of  the  high  position 
which  their  liege  lords  may  attain.  At  a 
drawing-room  of  the  third  Georj;e,it  is  on 
record  that  the  spouse  uf  a  Scotch  judge 
was  about  to  receive  a  salute  royal  from 
one  of  the  princesses,  when  the  offici.il  in 
waiting  n)ared  through  a  speaking  trum- 
pet, her  royal  highness  being  deaf — 

'  D<m't  kiss  her,   madam,  she  is   not  a 
lady!' 

But  how  easy  is  it  for  court  adherents 
to  regulate  precedence,  seeing  that  they 
have  tallies  constructed  for  the  very  pur- 
[Mise,  on  the  accuracy  of  which  they  may 
rt-ly  with  as  much  certainty  as  a  navy 
captain  can  depeml  on  the  '  Nautical  Al- 
manack' of  the  Admirality.  No  such  writ- 
ten directory  had  the  inhal>itauts  of  Paul- 
ton.  As  clergymen  say  of  tlieir  texts, 
society  Jhere  tip(»ritaneou8ly  divided  itself 
into  three  several  portions,  and  ciistes  of 
India  never  were,  or  ever  could  be,  more 
absolute.  There  might  be  more  than 
three  sections,  but  our  business  is  with 
three.  Lord  Byron  once  constructed  a 
pyramid  of  the  poets ;  putting  one  name 
on  the  apex,  two  divisions  with  names  on 
the  side,  and  underneath  the  base  wrotd 
*  the  many.'  Our  nusineas,  ia  like  man- 
ner, does  not  go  below  the  tertiary  strata 
of  the  community  under  description  ;  we 
do  not  ignore  inferior  ftrmationiJ,  but, 
in  the  meantime,  we  have  nothing  to  do 
with  them. 

In  Paulton  there  were  no  nobility,  no 
baronets,  not  even  knights,  no  generals, 
or  admirals,  no  great  landed  proprietors. 
Wfiat  elements  of  discord  could,  then,  by 
possihility  exist:  asks  the  ingenious  read- 
er. Softly.  Boswell  could  not  convince 
Johnson  that  there  were  local  differences 
ia  the  i  iffi-rent  districts  of  Scotland,  yet 
great  differences  there  are  ;  and  so  the 
society  of  a  town,  to  every  appearance 
homogeneous,  has  its  upper,  middle,  and 
lower  cliisses,  defined  w  ith  as  much  pre- 
cision as  any  metropolis  in  the  world.  It 
is  a  mistake  that  these  same  capitals  fall 
into  sometimes,  to  imagine  that  they  are 
the  worUl — whereas  the  hollow  and  the 
true,  the  make  i)elieve  and  tho  earnest, 
will  bo  found  in  the  smallest  community 
as  well  a,s  in  the  largest.  Nay,  mure,  as 
society   is   made  up  of  individuals,   look 


,  I  have  often  admired  the  dexterity   into  your  own  heart,  friend,  and  then 


38 


CRAIG  ALLAN  CASTLE. 


you  will  find  the  world  in  its  shahbinesa 
»nd  in  its  elevuti'  n,  just  as  uiu<h  as  you 
will  do  abroad.  Paul  ton,  tlien  lure,  is  as 
suiiniiiiurs  to  -i  largn  tov^n  ;  !>ut,  on  the 
otlitr  tiaiid,  it  is  a  large  drawing  of  the  in- 
dividual Uiind. 

Tho  linf  which  hedged  in  the  aristocra- 
cy of  Piiulton  could  not  he  hirth  ;  for 
some  of  those  within  its  iiiagiu  cinle  had 
been  the  archittjcts  ol  their  own  fortune 
— many  of  tht-m  were  of  the  purest  ple- 
beian blood,  only  one  gem  ration  removed  ; 
ond  although  some  could  boast  of  b<ing 
amongst  the  haut  ton  for  three  genera- 
ti(ms„  3et  others  whose  pedigree  was  as 
unmixed  were  without  the  wall.  It  could 
not  be  wealth  ;  for  poor  were  in,  and  some 
heavy  purses  were  out.  It  could  not  lie 
protes-iion  ;  for  some  physieiaiis  were  in- 
cluded and  some  excluded  ;  and  the  same 
might  be  said  of  half  pay  officers,  bankers, 
clergymen,  and  every  other  profession 
that  the  town  could  boast  of.  It  could 
not  be  marriage  ;  fur  although  some  alli- 
ances did  float  a  man  or  his  wife  over  the 
bar,  yet  true  it  was  equally,  that  some- 
times a  man  or  his  wife,  fiy  the  knot  con- 
Dubiiil,  did  also,  iii  the  same  way,  float 
themselves  out  of  the  dock-gates  (»t  esclu-  j 
sivenegs,  and  for  ever  land  themselves  in 
the  mud  of  the  middle  rank.  It  could 
not  be  intellect  or  ficrsonal  ap].earahce  ; 
for  clever  and  stupid,  graceful  and  l')ut- 
ish,  were  to  he  luund  in\  both  sides  of  the 
demiircatory  line.  Strangest  of  all,  it  was 
not  relitiotiship  ;  for  notwithstanding  the 
trite  [iroverb  of  blood  1>eing  thickir  than 
water,  the  world,  Paulton  iiichnled,  does 
often  in)ect  serum  into  the  Cunsanguine- 
ous  fluid.  Take  the  case  <rf  a  man  and 
bis  wife,  clearly  :ind  decideilly  witliin  the 
pale  of  the  high  circle,  the  miin  tails  back 
m  the  wtirkl — P.iulton,  notwithstanding 
blood,  falls  back  on  liim  ;  or  suppose  that 
the  man  does  not  fall  back  in  the  world, 
but  clearly  and  unequivocally  maintains 
Sis  position,  but,  nevertheless,  liegets 
more  sons  and  daughters  than  he  can  [iro- 
▼ide  for  after  the  fashion  which  he  him 
self  has  been  provided  for  ;  then  in  due 
time,  unless  they  dexterously  recover 
themselves,  which  they  cannot  all  do,  will 
these  sons  and  daugliiers  be  elbowed  ofl' 
the  jilatform.  Of  all  the  uidiappy  posi- 
tions in  which  woman  can  be  [ilact  d  in 
this  world,  that  of  good  birth  and  no  mo- 
ney is  tlie  most  miserable  ;  her  coinpeers 
will  not  forgive  ,her  want  of  capital,  and 
she.  j;ioor  woman,  not  seeing  how  soon  she 
will  become  unmarketable,  has  not  the 
icnse  to  forgive  the  accident  of  birth  in 
Bome  humble  adinireT,  and  so,  remaining 
■ingle,  poor,  and  itenteel,  drags  her  fimi- 
ly  downwards      But  this  by  the  way. 


What,  then,  was  the  talismtwJ  for  Puail 

ton  ?  I  can  give  it  no  name.  The  ladies, 
[  believe,  had  some  capricious  standard  ol 
gentility,  and  their  husl).inds  had  ti'  how. 
the  ri(diest  and  most  da.>-l.f(ig  madam,  Ibi 
the  time  beiiij;,  would  conim<nci!  her  par- 
ties; power  omnipotent  would  beh.ng  to 
her,  perhaps  not  so  much  in  unm. iking 
as  in  making  ;  tor  admis^ion  to  her  house 
would  f>e  a  passport  toothers  ;  and  it  un- 
making came  to  be  the  order  of  the  day, 
three  h.'lies  could  any  day  form  a  quo- 
rmn,  and  blackbidl  any  candidate  « hat- 
ever.  But  arhitriiry  as  these  de<i.>iion8 
did  in  tile  abstract  appear  to  be,  tltere 
scarcely  ever  was  any  m-ci  8^iry  lor  ap- 
peals, rhe  sliade  that  distiiiguislied  the 
lowest  aristocrat  roui  the  highest  middle 
rank  must  have  been  intitiitoimallv  nice, 
yet  a  shade  was  there,  patent  to  all  and 
acknowli  dged  ;  or  if  some  presumptuous 
person  dare  to  question  the  infallibility  of 
his  eiclusion,  the  shout  of  scom  r:iir<ed  on 
bdf/i  sides  would  so  completely  discomfit 
him  as  to  neutralize  all  tartlier  oppxi^ition. 
The  highflyers  had  their  annual  ball— 
every  ime  knew  where  the  invitiitiona 
would  cease  ;  the  middle-men  had  their 
rout,  and  began  wtiere  their  betters  left 
off;  but  they,  too,  had  their  liuiit*»,  and 
were  just ,. J  jealous  of  fKissir^  the  lower 
Itubicon  as  tlie  others.  Petty  matters, 
t  ese  ball-room  invitatims  ;  but  yet  who 
does  not  feel  prt.foilndly  when  they  think 
ol  Robert  Burns  being  tabooed  by  tho 
gentry  of  l)um-freys — the  proud  yet  irri- 
tated piM-t  walking  on  the  ojiposite  pave- 
ment alone  and  neglected,  while  the  no- 
bodies of  the  day  were  cutting  him  right 
and  left  on  the  way  to  the  assembly 
rooms '? 

Sorry  am  I  to  say  for  the  aristocrats  of 
Paulton,  that  Mrs.  John  Graham  was  no 
sooner  settled  in  Craig^dhin  than  she  wan 
at  once  recogriised  as  belonging  to  their 
order;  the  sea  coming  in  at  a  spring-tide 
storm  could  not  more  furiously  cover  up 
rocks  and  ereelJ^  than  did  the  auditori.*  of 
rank  yield  upall  minor  distinctions  at  tiie 
call  (tf  the  new  matron  of  the  castle. — 
The  Grahams  had  money,  ships,  houses, 
and  a  carnage ;  true,  they  had  got 
them  by  an  accident,  hut  charity  could 
overlook  that.  Too  long  had  the  bitter  hand 
o\'  poverty  been  on  them  ;  and  tlicreforo 
all  the  more  need  to  show  them  a  Simari- 
tan  welcome.  Mrs  John  took  the  earli- 
est opportunity  to  in\ite  the  leaders  of 
public  opinion  to  dinner,  and,  with  tht 
exception  of  a  militia  oflicer  and  his  lady, 
all  came  but  even  she  sent  an  excuse, 
pleading  Innib.igo  in  her  lord,  and  ca- 
tarrh in  herself;  and  although  every  0D« 
I  present  knew  the  apology  to  be  huiubug 


craigallan  castle. 


39 


5«i  all  acknowledged  that,  Sir  a  start,  the 
thing  wa8  wondrous.  And  the  &Ay  atur 
made  the  triuiujih  coiujilete  ;  for  the  gal- 
lant captain  and  his  t*pouse,  having  heard 
good  acoountH  of  the  entortainimnt,  be- 
came per  sulluin  ho  marvelhjusly  oonvales- 
Ct'nt  as  to  he  able  to  pay  their  respects  in 
person  next  day. 

Mrs.  John  did  not  greatly  avail  herself 
of  her  right  of  e?t/rce  into  the  cott-riea. 
Like  all  other  pleasures,  it  was  greater  in 
tile  anticipation  than  the  realization.  Seen 
at  her  former  distance,  the  grandees  of 
the  town  hiouied  and  bulked  large  ;  hut 
close  contact  with  them  d1miui::ihed  their 
proportions.  She  saw  when  she  cauie  to 
exchange  hospitalities  with  thein,  that  ftw 
of  their  purses  were  as  heavy  iu*  her  own  ; 
that  ff.w  of  them  were  so  little  dependant 
On  trade  as  her  lord  was  ,  that  mme  of 
them  had  so  iiirgc  gardens,  so  magniticent 
a  residence,  or  bo  dashing  an  equipage. 
John  Graham  was  a  Triton  among  min- 
nows ;  and  instead  of  courting  the  smnll 
game  of  the  burgh,  the  aspiring  lady  cast 
her  thoughts  on  the  gentry  of  the  county  ; 
that,  h<iwev<r,  was  an  assault  that  re- 
quired time  to  achieve. 

John  liimself  was  pleased  with  a  life  of 
plentiful  indolenee  ;  and  th(»ugh  not  in- 
disposed to  high  position,  yet,  if  not  con- 
stantly pntmpted  hy  hit  ui:ite,  he  would 
not  liave taken  the  high  flights  which  he 
occasionally  adventured,  lie  bee^me  a 
jtistice  of  the  peace,  a  ctmimissioner  of 
supply,  a  deputy-lieutenant,  a  hank  and 
insur:iiieedirec^tor,  and  otherwise  assumed 
the  oftiiios  willingly  conceded  to  provitjcial 
aflluence.  lie  al^o  beeame  an  improver, 
consulted  surveyors  as  to  the  laying  out  of 
his  lands,  reared  stock,  and  reclaimed 
waste  ground.  In  these  matters  he  served 
his  day  and  generation  as  well  as  his 
neiglihors,  and  although  most  of  his  ar- 
rangements were  gone  into  more  for  the 
sake  of  self-aggrandizement  than  any 
thing  els^,  v»-t,  on  tiie  principle  that  he 
who  causes  two  blades  of  grass  to  grow 
where  one  only  flourished  before,  John 
Graham  was  clearly  a  benefactor  of  his 
Bpecies 

And  Sarah,  how  shall  we  recount  her 
proi'e<iure  ?     Blessed  with  instinctive  pur- 

{(oses  of  goiui,  she  was  most  fortunately 
eft  to  herseir,  and  grew  up  strong  in  her 
own  resolves  of  pure  and  higli-uiinded 
conduct.  In  the  general  purpose  of  en- 
joying Craigallan,  she  was  somewhat 
■trangely  overlooked  Ijoth  by  father  and 
mother.  This  was  the  special  reason  ; 
and,  besides,  there  was  the  gefieral  rea- 
son hy  whieh  all  partitits  overloi.k  the 
adt>le8cenee  of  their  children.  Accnstom- 
9d  tf/  see  them  day  by  day,  heads  of  fami- 


lies cannot  mark  the  gradual  and  all  l*oi 
iuipereepiible  stages  by  which  th«  ir  off- 
spring livconit!  men  and  women.  VV'asti- 
ingtou  Irving  has  it  that  the  father  of  ono 
of  his  heroines  lorgot  he  had  a  grown-up 
daughter  till  the  parting  kiss  of  a  hiverat 
the  door  fell  loud  on  his  startled  e.irs. 
John  Graham  was  ntit  awakened  in  this 
way;  but,  as  will  afterwards  be  told,  he, 
too,  came  to  know  tliat  he  had  a  daughter 
capable  of  loving  and  being  loved,  tjaiah 
had  no  relish  ior  show  or  buslle.  She 
h;id  been  well  trained  in  the  school  of 
poverty  ;  and  the  lessons  which  had  been 
thrown  away  on  her  father  and  mother 
had  not  been  lost  on  her.  She  had  a  deep 
love  for  nature  ;  and  to  be  allowed  to 
wander  amtmg  the  woods  witli  her  dog 
Oscar,  or  look  alter  some  favorite  flowers, 
were  to  her  more  heart-felt  sources  of  en- 
joyment than  all  the  stuck-up  parties  at 
Paulton,  or  of  Paulton  people  at  thfl 
castle,  could  convey. 

'  What  a  fright  that  girl  Graham  is!* 
said  Miss  Laura  Miller,  the  daughter  of  a 
neighboring  clergyman  ;  '  always  romping 
about  like  a  child  with  that  ugly  l)rute  oi 
a  dog.' 

'  Where  in  the  universe  could  she  hava 
pict<ed  up  such  a  monster  !'  asked  Miss 
Lucretia  DicKson,  in  reply.  '  When  I 
was  walking  the  other  d'ay  with  my  dear 
little  poodle,  Rosebud,  the  pour  little 
thing  became  frightened  all  over  at  the 
appearance  of  the  horrid  aium.il  ;  and 
Miss,  instead  of  pitying  the  pour  dear,  only 
laughed.' 

'  Her  mothei  tells  me  that  the  lirute 
picked  some  cottar's  brat  out  of  the  wa- 
ter, and  Miss  has  had  him  for  her  eoiu- 
panion-in-chief  ever  since;  as  if  it  were 
so  very  rare  a  thing  for  dogs  to  pick  chil- 
dren, sticks,  or  anything  else  out  of  the 
water.' 

'  Between  you  and  me,  Laura,'  said  the 
tender  Lucretia, '  the  girl  is  masculine  ail 
ot  intention.  The  men  are  always  ciiatig- 
iiig  their  views  of  our  sex  ;  at  one  rime 
nothing  but  lismale  delicacy  ami  {iMpii.  ty 
will  g(»  down  ;  then,  all  of  a  suddt^n,  if 
some  impertinent  hussey  comes  bianuing 
forward,  half  boy  half  girl,  the  men  im- 
mediately run  after  her.  Take  my  word 
for  it,  my  dear,  our  ta^itics  are  wrong.' 

'  Speak  for  yourself,  Miss  Diclfson,  I 
think  any  gentleman  of  tiiste  woidd  not 
do  so,  and  surely  there  are  some  such  in 
the  world — at  least  I  think  1  know  (aie  of 
that  character ;  I  am  cert.un  that  if  I 
were  to  appear  in  a  white  gown  with 
flounces,  and  a  red  8;isii,  at  this  time  oi 
day,  and  an  old  black  bonnet,  I  know 
what  would    be    said.     Whatever   son 


40 


cratgallan  castle. 


people  may   do,   as  a  forlorn  hope,  I  do 
not  intend  making  a  fool  of  u)j&til-f.' 

'Forlorn  hope,  MisH  Miller!  If,  like 
some  other  pecpple,  I  were  to  content  my- 
self with  a  two-halfpenny  lawyer,  like 
young  Kennedy — ' 

'  Mis3  DioKHon,  take  care  what  you  are 
about,  madam  ;  or,  if  you  will  be  imper- 
tiru  nt,  certainly'  a  gentleman  who  has  the 
honor  of  Ijelonging  to  one  of  the  learned 
professions  miglit  at  least  expect  to  be  re- 
krred  to  with  deference  by  the  daughter 
of  a  retired  ironmonger  ;  but  mamma  was 
quite  right  when  she  advised  me  never  to 
associate  witli  vulgar  persons.' 

'  Did  your  mamma  talk  about  vulgarity  ? 
Where  will  this  end  ?  Do  you  know,  or, 
if  you  ever  knew,  of  course  you  have  for- 
got, what  your  mamma's  mother  was  ^ — 
It  is  no  wonder  that  some  yieople  have 
Buch  large  supplies  of  needles,  thimbles, 
and  thread,  considering,  &c.  &c.  &c  ' 

The  two  friends  j)ur8ued  a  smart  dia- 
tribe ;  but  we  must  not  follow  thejn  far- 
ther. Instead  of  walking  together  as  they 
did  when  they  first  set  out,  they  separat- 
ed, and  walking  back  to  back  for  a  short 
time,  they  each  turned  half  round. 
'  Lucretia ! ' 
'  Laura  !' 

And  so  they  shook  hands,  kissed  and 
were  friends  again,  just  as  man  and  wife 
sometimes  do  in  similar  cases. 

But  the  two  friends  must  not  be  allow- 
ed to  malign  Sarah.  The  dog  that  she 
patronised  was  a  noble  black  ariimal  of 
the  Newfoundland  breed  ;  and  any  lady 
might  have  been  proud  of  him.  Oscar  was 
a  neglected  farm-dog,  vainly  courting 
alliance  with  herds  and  servitors,  till  the 
the  day  when  the  gardener's  little  child 
fell  into  the  water.  Sarah  shrieksd  for 
assistance ;  none  coming,  she  tried  to 
latch  the  infant  in  its  downward  flight 
with  a  twig.  It  sunk  ;  and  while  she  btill 
Btood  screaming  the  dog  sprang  over  the 
hedge.  The  twig  jvas  pointing  to  a  white 
rag  of  dress  still  floating  ;  he  dashed  in, 
and  brought  the  drowning  creature  safe 
to  the  bank.  From  that  moment  Oscar 
and  Sarah  was  inseparable  ;  he  carried 
baskets,  watering-pans,  shawls,  bonnets, 
everything  ;  nay  his  intimacy  went  so  far 
that  at  night  he  slffiton  a  rug  outside  the 
bed  room  of  his  young  mistress.  Oscar 
had  rare  insight  into  character ;  and  Sa- 
rah marked  with  much  interest  how  the 
animal  gambnUfd  wlien  free,  generous, 
open  faced  looking  people  came  up  the 
lawn,  and  how  he  gliomed  and  got  sulky 
when  suspicious  visitors  made  their  apn 
pearance. 

As  to  Sarah's  dress,  me  must  freely  ac- 
knowledge that  it  was  not  regularly  mo- 


delled after  the  iwonthly  number  of  tlM 

'  World  of  Fashioji.'  It  was  always  neat 
and  becoming,  but  invariably  anticipated 
in  color  and  shape  ;  and  yet,  as  we  have 
said,  it  was  becoming,  for  these  among 
other  reasons.  In  the  firi^t  place,  a  truly 
pretty  face  and  tigure  is  not  easily  spoiltd 
in  any  dress  ;  and  secondly,  a  touili  tif 
the  antique  adds  peculiarly,  and  heightens 
the  attractions  of  a  sweet  juvenile  com  te- 
nance.  What,  for  instance,  is  more  in- 
teresting than  wlien  a  beautiful  young 
wife  is  seized  with  the  desire  of  being  ma- 
tronlike, and  dons  a  white  cap.  VVhat 
an  inexpressible  cliarm  lies  there  in  the 
winkii>g  eyes,  their  lashes  distilling  dew 
at  every  fl  ip,  the  mouth  primly  screwed 
up.  the  feet  mincing  in  their  walk,  while 
the  little  hand  grasps  and  jingles  the  keys 
of  the  pantry  !     No 

'  Dirk  brown  hair  braided  o'er 
A  lirow  of  bpotless  wtiiie' 

can  match  this.  At  all  events,  whatever 
the  milliners  and  dressmakers  of  Paulton 
might  and  did  say,  Sarah  Graham's  beau- 
ty was  recognised  on  the  part  of  the  un- 
prejudiced. 

But  here  it  will  be  said,  and  perhaps 
said  naturally,  Sarah  is  a  heroine  ;  and 
therefore,  altbmgh  the  daughter  of  John 
and  M-iry  Graham,  parties  remarkable  for 
neither  mental  nor  moral  beauty,  she 
must,  in  her  capacity  of  heroine,  and  in 
violation  of  all  nature  and  probability,  b© 
perfection  in  everything.  Surrounded  in 
every  shape,  she  might  have  physical  love- 
liness ;  but  where, it  may  be  asked,  or  how 
Could  she  acquire  the  innocence,  Bimpli(-itj 
and  other  virtues  ascribed  to  her  ?  The 
soil,  we  admit,  was  most  uncongenial  for 
such  products,  but  there  they  were  ;  and 
our  narrative  has  to  do  with  appearances 
and  transactions,  not  phenomena.  If  in- 
compatibility with  nature  l)e  urged,  we 
ask  objectors  to  explain  how  it  is  that 
from  the  same  earth  such  different  stems 
should  spring,  and  on  the  same  ilower 
such  varied  tints  appear  ;  how  the  stalk 
and  the  flower  should  spring  from  the 
same  root  ;  or  why  the  fairest  and  sweet- 
est flowers  should  be  thickly  planted  with 
thorns  ;  or  why  some  flowers  sfiuuld  yield 
the  aroma  of  death,  and  others  send  forth 
the  (jdors  of  Paradise  ?  When  these  qes- 
tions  are  answered,  we  shall  explain  how 
much  Sarah  Graham  differed  from  her 
'parents. 

CIIAPPER  XII. 

LUDOVICKO'S  HRST  rKOTEGE. 

In  an  attic  room,  shabbily  furnished, 
lay  in  bed  the  youth  Edward  Turner.— 
At  five  o'clock  of  a  cold  winter  mominj;  h« 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


41 


lOM,  and  having  with  some  difficulty 
■truck  a  light  by  the  aid  of  a  flint  and 
tinder-box  (lucifers  tiad  not  then  been  in 
vented),  he  proceeded  to  dress  himself  — 
A  few  boo  8  were  strewn  about  the  gar- 
ret, and  a  retort,  S(.»int-lamp,  crucible, 
and  other  cheiuical  apparatus  were  placed 
on  a  small  table,  while  on  the  top  of  a 
larj^e  and  clumsy  chest  were  to  be  seen 
dried  specimens  of  plants,  and  several 
filtering  ottles  in  operation.  Edward 
read  and  experimented  alternately  ;  and 
whenever  he  hecame  too  cold  for  either 
pvoeesss  he  had  recourse  to  some  grotes(jue 
gymn.wtii-s,  and  then  resumed  his  studies 
wlien  tne  vital  current  again  began  to  cir- 
culate. At  lialf  past  seven  •  he  opened 
the  large  chest  and  therein  deposited  his 
instruments.  He  then  descended  tlie 
Btairs  warily,  for  the  bed  room  of  Dr.  An- 
thony Fif/gibbon,  his  lady,  and  two  of 
tlieir  children,  was  underneath  his  own 
Blceping-ap.irtment,  and  woe  to  him  if  lie 
disturi)  d  any  of  the  fraternity  in  their 
sluiubi  rs. 

Afcr  groping  hia  way  to  the  shop  he 
undi  1  the  l>olts,  and  got  into  the  street 
and  tooii  oflF  the  window-shutters  ;  then 
he  lighted  the  shop  fire,  agd  also  the  tire 
of  Dr.  Anthony  8  consulting- room  ;  then 
he  cleaneii,  trimmed,  and  tilled  with  oil 
two  br  iss  lamps  ;  then  he  swept  the  door 
and  dusted  the  counters.  By  the  time 
these  operations  were  concluded  nine 
o'clock  arrived,  and  with  it  the  learned 
Anthony,  who  relieved  his  assistant  for 
the  purpose  of  allowing  him  to  get  break- 
fast, a  meal  which  EJward  received  in  the 
kitchen,  having  for  companions  thereat 
tlie  nursery  and  iill-work  maids.  The 
morning  repast  discussed,  Etwiird  went 
back  to  the  shop,  Dr.  Anthony  went  the 
round  of  his  patients,  and  Eiwiird  re- 
mained to  compound  and  sell  mdeicines  to 
the  customers.  After  dinner  he  delivered 
medicmes  to  the  rich  p  itients  at  their 
3wn  houses  ;  at  nine  o'clock  the  shop 
W;ts  shut,  his  simple  supper  followed,  and 
th -n,  before  retiring  to  rest,  he  had  his 
evening  studies  iu  his  private  l.ibontory. 

It  may  excite  surprise  that  the  life  of 
which  we  have  sketched  the  proceedings 
of  a  d*y  was  followed  for  sever.d  years  by 
El  ward  I'urner  with  something  closely 
ap|iroiching  to  happiness  and  satisfaction. 
At  home  tiie  youtli  had  been  snubbed  by 
his  m  tther,  in  whom  the  parent  had  been 
absorbed  in  the  nurse  ;  and,  constantly 
'jcai'ing  the  praises  of  his  foster  brother 
Bounded,  while  he  himself  was  always 
■neered  at,  the  natural  timidity  of  the 
boy  had  sunk  down  to  apissiveness  near- 
ly allied  to  inanity.  But  at  P.iulton  »'ie 
aepresBiag  iuflueDce  was  removed.    True,  i 


he  did  not  receive  praise,  but  he  escaped 
censure.  Dr.  Fitzgibbon  had  never  had 
in  his  est  iblishment — and  many  had, 
from  first  to  last,  been  there — a  boy  who 
more  attentively  and  intelligently  dis- 
charged his  duties.  Edward  had  a  great 
thirst  for  knowledge  ;  the  compounding 
of  medicines  led  him  to  study  tne  Phar- 
macopeia, that  again  led  hiiu  to  chemis- 
try, and  tne  latter  to  botany. 

A  new  existence  dawned  on  him  as  ob- 
ject after  object  presei.ted  themselves  for 
investigation.  AVitb  comparatively  few 
helps  to  aid  him,  his  ingenuity  and  pow- 
ers of  thought  were  stimulated  ;  and  iia 
he  judged  and  experimented  for  himself, 
he  was  rapidly  laying  the  foundation  for 
sound  advances  in  science.  The  imple- 
ments of  the  apothecary  supplied  liim 
with  the  means  of  chemical  analysis  to  i 
certain  extent ;  he  borrowed  books  from 
all  quarters  ;  and  as  lor  his  museum  and 
herbarium,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  he 
laid  nature  under  contribution.  Rich  sa- 
vans  iu  large  cities  are  so  much  accus- 
tomed to  have  everything  done  for  them, 
that  they  probably  could  not  conceive  how 
a  poor  boy,  in  a  small  town,  should  make 
progress  iu  the  study  oj'  science.  Ed- 
ward would  have  surprised  such  philoso- 
pheis 

In  the  summer  mornings  he  traversed 
the  fields  tor  plants,  the  ditches  Ibr  their 
vegetable  and  animal  productions,  the 
sea-shore  for  its  shell  and  o/^te;  and  in 
winter  he  arranged  and*pirepared  the  spoils 
of  summer,  and  all  with  an  energy  and 
j  devoteduess  of  purpose  that  might  have 
I  shamed  a  chartered  society.  Fiiagibhon 
having  the  geuteelest  practice  of  the 
town,  was  desirous  that  his  sliop-l.id 
should  appear  genteel  too ;  and  so  ho 
allowed  him,  in  tlie  shape  of  salary,  such 
a  sum  as,  with  strict  economy,  enabled 
Edward  to  be  well-clothed,  and  to  have 
something  besides  for  philosophical  pur- 
poses ;  wtiich  latter,  with  small  rendt- 
tances  regularly  sent  to  his  motlier  con- 
stituted the  whole  of  his  expenditure. 
Dr  Fitzgibbon  winked  at  the  scientific  in- 
vestigations of  his  assistant.  Being  him- 
self an  empirical  physician  he  had  no 
taste  for  such  studies,  and  voted  Edward 
a  lad  of  good  di  pi»sitions,  but  of  silly 
luind,  who  would  dabble  on  with  chimeri- 
cal pursuits  and  leave  the  great  business 
of  life  untouched.  Ludovicko  having  in- 
quired from  lime  to  time  as  to  Edward's 
behaviour,  the  Ifech,  after  allowing  some 
two  or  three  years  for  probation,  at  length 
answered — 

'  He  has  good  parts,  Mr.  Grant,  and  1m 
has  indifferent  ones.' 


42 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


'  Not  given  ti»  company,  like  my  young 
a:en.  I  Impe,  dictcr!' 

'  Not  in  the  le;ist ;  th<>re  nevor  was  a 
Btcadivr  lad  fan  Edward.  lie  keeps  no 
SnnipiUiy.  neVL-r  lenvi  8  tlie  house  at  nij^ht, 
aiiiJ  is  alA-avs  at  liis  pustiri  the  uinriiifig  ; 
but  h<-^  has  ni/w-lan^led  notions,  and  hol(is 
tlieni  fonet'itedly.  A  ge-ntleuian  cauje  in, 
the  other  diiy,  while  I  was  enjraged  in 
Consultation,  and  asked  him  for  sunie- 
thinji  to  eure  a  stomachie  complaint,  lu- 
sti-ad  ot  having  recourse  to  Gregory's 
Mixture,  whidi  he  knows  is  my  tiheet- 
aiiclior,  he  commenced  a  long  inquiry 
dhout  symptoms,  and,  to  my  horr<ir,  end- 
ed hy  giving  hiln  bismuth — a  medicine 
which  1  iit;vt'r  prescribed  in  my  life,  and 
ordy  keep  because  ordered  by  a  London 
doctor  to  be  given  to  a  stranger  lady  who 
is  here  for  sea-air.  On  my  taking  him  to 
task,  he  coollv  told  me  that  the  gentle- 
man's ailment  was  severe  pyrosis,  and 
that  the  only  thing  in  the  Dispensa- 
tory tl^at  could  relieve  him  was  bismuth  ! 
The  lad  will  ne^'er  be  a  physician  ;  he  is 
alw.iys  for  having  everything  explained  to 
him.  and  that  in  our  art  is  imnitssihic, 
and  if  possible,  absurd  ;  but  he  makes  up 
ointments  beautilully,  and,  having  had  so 
many  rascals  about  niyshop,  I  will  rather 
put  up  with  his  nonsense  than  have  wild 
iellows  in  my  service.' 

LUDOVICKO'S    SECOND  PROTEGEE. 

Wp  must  now  trace  the  career  of  Wil- 
liam Morison,  the  foster-brother  of  Ed- 
vviird,  and  for  this  purpose  we  cannot  do 
lietter  than  peep  into  the  alehouse  of 
Jenny  Findlay,  of  a  Saturday  night. 

Seated  at  a  white  wooden  table,  and 
smoking  pi[ies,  were  Jones  and  Ogle,  the 
<lerks  of  John  Graham  ;  and  o[iponite, 
Kanuin  and  Wiiliiim  Morison,  the  clerk 
and  nephew  of  Ludovicko. 

'  Your  governor  is  making  a  fine  pro- 
perty of  Oraigallan,'  said  Rankin  ;  '  1 
parsed  the  muff  to-day,  but  he  pretended 
not  t(»  know  me.' 

'  He  does  not  know  your  master,'   re- 
jilied   Jones  with    a   sneer,  '  and  that  is 
Worse.     Grunt  called  the  other  day,  and 
OS  he  said  that  he  was  on  particul^jr  btjsi- 
ness,  I  showed  him    into    the    counting- 
room,  where  Graham    happened   to  be  at 
the  time.     He  handed  Graham    a   letter  * 
authorising  him  to  receive  payment  of  the  I 
Minerca's  freight    from    Grant.     Instead! 
of  desiring  him  to  take  a  seat  till   he  did 
so,    Graham  turned  to   me,  with  the  ut- ' 
most  coolness,   and  Said,  "  Take  this  per- 
son to    the    next  room,  draw  out  the  re- ! 
ceipt,  and  bring   it  back  to  mo  for  signa- 
ture.'" I 


'  Ca{)ital !'  said  Rankin.  '  And  how  did 
our  man  look  V 

'^Is  cool  as  a  cucumber;  walked  out  sui 
desired,  waited  till  the  receipt  wa,s  drawn 
and  signed,  received  it,  and  ihank-ed  me 
with  all  possible  politeness,  :ilthough  he 
Was  the  party  p.t^in^  the  money.' 

'  Then  let  John  Graham  looU  out  tor 
squalls  ;  for,  as  sure  as  I  now  smoke  this 
}iipe,  our  man  has  a  herring  in  salt  for 
him.  !Morison,  you  are  b<  i;itining  to 
know  your  uncle  ;  is  that  not  the  way  he 
does  wlien  he  has  his  vietim  in  his  power? 
VVlien  Ludovicko  is  insulted  and  cannot 
help  himself,  he  gives  a  peeuliiir  glare, 
like  a  scared  tiger  ;  but  when  he  can  pay 
back,  he  always  puts  on  the  mildness  of 
the  dove.' 

'  llis  very  way  !'  answered  ^Jorison. 
'  Depend  upon  it,  the  old  chap  is  up  to 
something.' 

'  I  am  certain  of  it,'  continued  Rankin. 
'There  was  a  mystery  about  Gocffrey's 
death  and  John's  succession  that  I  have 
never  yet  seen  cleared  up,  but  whieh  I  am 
in  hopes  of  seeing  tlimugh  some  day. 
And  if  by  possiliility  our  governor  can 
hurt  yours,  1  shall  be  glad  of  it.  They 
are  both  rogues,  but  the  one  is  a  clever 
and  the  other  is  a  dull  rogue.  Until  his 
brother's  wind!  til,  (iraham  was  never  out 
of  a  scrape;  but  Grant,  with  no  Iriends 
and  with  no  money  excej)t  what  he  has 
made,  has  browbeat  all  the  dons  round 
about,  and  not  one  of  them  has  thought 
01  saying  a  word  to  him,  any  more  than 
a  mouse  thinks  of  turning  oiT  a  t^at.' 

'  Beg  pardon,'  interp-is^d  Mr.  Ojile, 
'  you  forget  the  infernal  thrashing  that  he 
got  Irom  Mutch,  the  farmer,  for  putting 
him  out  of  his  farm.' 

'  Oh,'  rejoined  Rankin, '  that  was  phy- 
sical force.  Unless  a  man  s  face  were 
granite,  instead  of  brass,  he  could  not 
bear  up  against  an  angry  scoundrel  with 
a  wife  and  starving  children.  But  even 
tliere,  althoujih  attacked  in  :i  dark  night 
and  out  of  sight  of  everybody,  Ludovicko 
tracked  out  his  assiiilant,  had  him  tried 
and  transported,  and  now  his  wife  and 
children  are  beggars.  Is  not  :hat  check- 
mating with  a  vengeance?' 

'  Well,  gentlemen,'  said  Jones,  '''here 
18  all  your  good  healths,  and  a  truce,  I 
say,  to  attacks  on  princip-ds  ;  it  is  so  un- 
like the  Radicals  that  1  abominate  such 
conduct.* 

'  Ah,.'  said  Ogle,  '  there  goes  the  cloven 
foot.  So  long  as  you  were  a  common 
clerk  you  could  abuse  principals  as  well 
as  your  neighbors  ;  but  wl  en  I  heard  of 
olil  Trotter's  death,  and  that  you  were  to 
su(-ceed  him,  1  knew  how  it  vvcmld  be. 
There  never  was  a  head-clerk  any  bettor. 


CKAIGALLAN  CASTLE 


43 


'  Except  me,'  ejaculated  Rankin. .  '  I 
have  been  a  liead-clcik  suiue  jeais  now  ; 
and  saving  when  tiisi-y^rliiie  ri  quired  to  be 
viuiiicited,  1  never  wus  iip[i»li.' 

'  Will)  are  you  head  oLi-rK.  over''  asked 
Murison,  in  a  sudden  burst  of  passion.' 

'  i'ou  !'  said  tlie  imperturbable  K.uikin. 

'  Uver  lue  V  replied  ttie  angiy  youth 
'  I  defy  you,  and,  in  proof,  1  ll  tigtii  you 
tbib  vt-ry  luoiuent.  Don't  keep  me  back. 
Ogle,  I  v\a,nt  to  pull  bis  nose.  Hang  it, 
sir,  Jones  may  snub  you,  but  he  slian't 
snub  me  !' 

Jones  and  Ogle  kept  hack  the  inipe-tu- 
ous  lad,  while  Kankin  eouily  continued  to 
smoke  liis  pipe.  At  length  said  that  wor- 
thy— 

'  We  must  in  future  drink  Jenny's  two- 
penny, otherwise  murdt  r  will  be  eom- 
luitied.  1  can  excuse  Willy's  anger,  but 
Ills  ingratitude  aiiects  me — and  lb.it,  too, 
after  1  have  taught  him  the  forms  of 
process.     However,  I  forgive  him  !" 

This  concessiwn  wms  met  with  approba- 
tion by  all  except  Morison  ;  who  seeing, 
however,  that  tlie  gem  ral  feeling  was  pa- 
citic,  sulkily  agreed  to  an  armistice. 

'  I  saw  your  governor's  daughter  to- 
day,' Said  Kank.in  ;  'she  is  gettmg  up  to 
be  a  bouncing  lass  !  She  was  in  Htzgib- 
bon  s  tiln.p  buying  some  stufl"  to  tix  tree- 
leaves  on  paper.  1  didu't  suppose  she 
was  given  to  that  sort  of  thing.  She 
asked  b'ltzgibbon  wliat  was  best  for  the 
purpose ;  he  recommended  something 
which  she  had  tried  before.  The  doctor 
then  loolied  at  tlie  pale-laced  chap.  Tur- 
ner— your  friend,  JNlorison — and  he  at 
once  told  her  what  to  use  ;  and  showed 
her  souietning  of  the  kind  that  he  had 
done.  By  jinjio  !  if  you  had  seen  how 
foolish  Fitzgibbon  looked  when  the  two 
chatter  d  ti^gether  about  calices,  coroll  is, 
or  somestuffof  that  kin^l.  1  11  be  whipped 
if  i'uruer  does  not  turn  out  a  clever  lel- 
low!' 

'  He  is  a  grand  speaker  at  our  debating 
clui),'  s.tid  Ogle,  '  when  met  iptiysics  is  in- 
troduced, but  nothing  on  consiitiiiional 
history  ;  and  as  for  ale,  unless  he  gets 
beer  iu  Anihou}  's  kitchen,  1  don  t  think 
he  ever  tastes  li(|uor.' 

'  Strange,  added  Morison,  '  that  Miss 
Graliam  should  speak  to  a  persnn  '"ke 
Turn<r,  when  she  w^ould  scarcely  look  at 
Die  in  the  mail-coach  last  week.' 

'  VVhy  r  ansv.  red  Jones.  '  What  right 
had  she  to  S}i>-  .k  to  you?  You  hud  no 
business  with  her  ;  whereas  in  the  apo- 
thecary's she  was  purchasing  ointuient. 
Komeiniier,  too,  you  are  only  a  clerk — she 
an  heiress.' 

'  I  am  as  good  as  she,  any  day.' 

'laieed?     Ludovicko  Grunt'a  nephew 


as  good   as   J)hn  Graham  s  daughter?— » 
tliat"s  a  good  joke  !' 

'  1  tell  you,  sir,  it  is  no  joke  !  My  fa« 
tiler  was  a  rich  luaii,  and  my  uuele  iii  ra* 
[lidly  becomii.g  one. 

*  Aye,  but  who  was  your  fatlicr?  and 
how  IS  your  uncle  beco.unig  rich  !  Tneee 
.ire  tlie  rubs  and  the  pinchiugs  ijf  the 
shoes.' 

'  I  know  that  my  fatlicr  was  a  gentle- 
m.iii ;  and  as  to  my  uncle's  wealili,  ht 
has  made  it  with  bis  own  hands,  and  not 
got  it  by  acci'ient  like  your  master. 

'  But  what  authority  nave  you  that  your 
father  was  a  geiitleuian,  exci  pt  an  old 
fool  of  a  nuise,  who  may  have  told  yoa 
that  to  keCf)  you  quiet;  I  Oare  s.'Vy 
Pk.iiikin,  or  any  ol  us,  would  tell  you  the 
same  thing  to  save  our  beuos,  if  you 
should  happen  to  get  into  one  of  your 
tits.  Oh,  you  need  not  look  sour  ;  il  you 
are  to  associate  with  us  it  must  be  on 
equal  terms ;  try  if  your  p^nlleuiaidy 
birth  will  Carry  you  into  better  society 
When  I  was  your  age  1  never  got  higtieu 
up  than  to  class  with  a j  prentices  ;  baf 
liankin  has  taken  you  by  the  hand  too 
Soon,  my  jackanapes !' 

During  the  address  Morison  had  again 
worked  tiiiuself  into  a  state  of  excitement 
higher  tlian  before  ;  his  swarthy  lace  as- 
sumed a  hue  of  blackness  ;  the  cold  sweat 
stood  on  his  forehead,  and  the  veins  of 
the  tem[ileii  swelled  like  cords.  He  waa 
too  angry  to  sj'.eak  ;  but  seizing  a  large 
glass  otl  the  table,  he  bulled  it  at  the 
head  of  his  censor.  Expecting  a  missile, 
Jones  was  on  tlie  alert ;  and  slightly 
ducking  the  vessel  missed  him.  But  big 
danger  was  only  aggravated  by  the  es- 
cape ;  for  the  next  moment  ^]o^i!?on  s[>rang 
over  the  table,  and  seizing  his  antagij- 
nist  s  handkerchief,  twisted  it  so  violently 
that  lietore  assistance  could  be  rendered, 
poor  Jones'  face  blackened  like  that  of 
his  assailant,  and  his  eyes  rolled  iu  agony. 
Kankin  and  Ogle,  seeing  that  active  treat- 
ment had  liecome  necessary,  lell  simulta- 
neously on  Morison.  and,  causing  him  to 
relax  his  hold,  flung  him  back  on  his  seat. 
At  this  juncture  the  window-sash  opened 
iVom  the  outsidt!,  ami  a  t.u-a  looked  in 
ujion  them,  first  grinning  hideously,  and 
then  l.uigliing  most  otistreperously.  It 
was  Skipton,  the  brazier,  who  i;eiiig  re- 
markahlti  for  strength  and  courage,  enjoy- 
ed the  /iiclce  as  excellent  pastime. 

'  I  marvel,  gentlemen,'  said  the  artifi- 
cer, '  that  your  concern  for  the  widow 
iii'l  latherless  is  so  great  as  to  raise  such 
a  du>t  in  tlie  hostelry,  and  so  denude  the 
l)ov*ager  Ladv  Findi'ay  of  her  license.  I 
take  It  that  one  of  the  jusiices  hua  b«en 
privy  to  your  doings !     Couiiug  round  by 


44 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


the  back  entrance,  1  spied  a  fellow  stoop- 
ing down  and  listening ;  an(i  tliinking 
that  he  had  no  business  in  such  a  sut'tei- 
ranean  place,  I  gave  him  a  vt  ry  polite 
kick.  On  starting  up  his  hat  fV-ll  uff;  and 
as  he  seemed  inclint  d  to  be  cttmbaiive,  1 
gave  hiia  a  ceremonious  slap  with  mj 
open  piilm,  which  had  the  efltct  of  mak- 
ing him  abdicate.  Ecce  si^nuin,  as  Sir 
John  Falstafl'sa^s,  here  is  his  helmet?' 

'  We  are  dune,  sold,  defunct,  up  the 
Bpout ;  the  games  uj» !'  said  Kankin. 

'  What  do  you  mean?'  asked  Jones, 
now  able  to  aspirate. 

'  We  may  just  as  well  go  to  Botany 
Bay  at  once.  Mutch  was  taken  away 
from  the  evil  that  is  to  come  ;  but  here 
we  aie  left  to  be  cut  up,  nobody  knows 
how  !' 

'  Speak  without  hypetbolicals,  young 
man,'  said  Skipton. 

'  Well,  then,  that  is  Lndovicko's  hat ! 
don't  you  see  L.  G.  in  the  inside  ?  He 
has  heard  all  our  conversation,  and,  l)e- 
fore  Heaven  !  he  will  do  for  the  whole  of 
us  before  the  year  is  out.' 

'  This  comes  of  drinking  ale,'  sighed 
Ogle. 

'  This  comes  of  drinking  with  nincom- 
poops,' said  Morrison,  with  a  scowl.  '  If 
you  were  not  a  set  of  low-born  fellows 
you  would  not  be  so  frightened.  1  have  ] 
more  to  fear  from  my  uncle  than  any  one  j 
of  you,  and  I  don't  care  a  straw.'  And 
turning  on  his  heel,  he  walked  oil. 

'  Well  done,  Hotspur  !'  said  Skipton. 
•  A  plague  of  all  cowards,  say  I.  Maiden 
bring  me  a  tankard,  and  let  it  be  foaming 
— for  of  late  your  mamma's  liquor  li.is 
been  flat  and  unprofitable.  And  so  1  liad 
the  honor  of  kicking  and  smiting  your 
employer,  Mr.  Rankin!  Had  I  known  it 
at  the  time  I  sliould  have  been  a  little 
more  emphatic.  It  is  not  always  that  one 
has  an  opportunity  ol  slapping  an  attor- 
ney at  the  hour  '  when  Margaret  s  dark 
and  grimly  ghost  stood  up  at  William's 
feet,'  and  when  no  tipstafl  can  see,  hear, 
or  identify.' 

'  Low- born  fellows  V  said  Jones  ;  '  low- 
born, indeed  !  The  upstart  is  off  without 
pacing  Ids  share  of  the  reckoning.  I  have 
no  objecfions  to  meet  you,  Kankin  ;  buiil' 
you  bring  that  young  whelp  with  y)u 
again,  1  will  leave  the  room;  mind 
that!' 

'  He  comes  no  more  with  me,'  replied 
Rankin.  '  When  he  was  younger  I  could 
control  him  ;  but  now  that  he  is  getting 
strong  he  is  getting  troublesnnie,  anO 
when  he  flies  into  these  bursts  of  passion 
ne  does  not  care  for  conse-quenees.  But, 
lor  all  his  fire,  he  is  a  snake  at  bottom,  i 
know  why  he  is  not  afraid  of  his  uncle. — 


lie  happened  to  be  defending  him  to> 
night ;  and  il  he  could  raise  himself  a  sin- 
gle step  with  Ludovicko,  he  would  peucb 
against  me  in  a  moment.  However,  he 
can  do  his  worst ;  he  is  no  clerk,  and 
Grant  can  get  nol>ody  to  do  his  work  sc 
well  as  I  for  the  same  salary,' 

'  Now,  gentlemen  all,  have  done  with 
tho.se  dirty,  professional  remarks,'  said 
Skipton.  '  Will  any  of  you  lend  a  hand 
for  the  "  Bride  of  Lammermoor,"  tor  the 
benetit  of  the  poor  of  St.  Yarrold  ?  Mr. 
Ogle,  your  Macassar  has  no  effecton  y<iur 
beard  ;  yt)U  could  do  Lucy  Ashton  with- 
out sliaving.  That  fiery  gent.  Morison 
would  mate  a  good  Kavensworth  ;  but 
ever  since  he  liroke  trie  vibloncelhj  over 
the  hump-back  of  old  Deighton,  the  Cor- 
net-a-piston  man,  I  have  vowed  that  he 
shall  never  more  be  officer  of  mine.  Jones, 
will  you  be  Sir  William  Ashton?' 

'  I  would  prefer  a  Shakspearian  charac- 
ter.' 

'  The  age  has  grown  picked.  There 
are  BO  few  understand  Shakspeare  that  I 
ci)uld  no  think  of  playing  from  him  with 
any  but  regular  dramatii  als.  "  Demons 
of  death,  come  settle  on  my  soul."  '  Hero 
Skipton  made  some  liorrime  faces, .and,  in 
turn,  gave  '  Saddle  white  Surrey  !'  '  Off 
with  his  head  !'  'Is  that  the  dagger  I 
see  before  me  ?'  and  other  tit- hi  is  of  the 
Swan  of  x\von,  to  the  ainusement  of  his 
auditors  ;  for,  although  Skipicm  was  a  bad 
player,  so  far  as  stage  business  was  con- 
cerned, he  gave  such  ludicrous  mixtures  of 
the  terril'ie  and  facetious  in  his  exhibi- 
tions that  no  risible  faculties  could  with- 
stand him.  '  I'm  intiriu  of  purpose,'  con- 
tinued the  would-be  tragedian  ;  '  and,  iis 
I  see  no  hope  ot  amicable  adjustment,  the 
poor  of  the  parish  of  St.  Yarrold  must  get 
amateurs  somewhere  else.  But,  by-tlie- 
way,  Messrs  Jones  and  Ogle,  as  some  of 
your  Craigallan  gentry  would  like  to  be 
there,  it  might  have  been  worth  your 
while  to  have  stiown  ofl'l)efore  tliem.' 

'  Tlie  very  reason  why  we  could  not  go. 
Pray  do  you  ever  go  out  there  at  night 
now  ? ' 

'  Occasionally  I  do  ;  but  the  walls  are 
80  high,  and  so  many  petty  visitors  goitig 
backv\ar.d  and  forward  that  1  have  not 
the  same  sulitude  as  before.  But  I  hav*» 
a  great  mind  to  pay  my  addresses  to  the 
heiress  ;  she  makes  purchases  of  me,  and 
always  looks  tender  wlien  I  throw  out 
llomeo  and  Juliet  touches.  By-the-by  to 
Keep  tidngs  clear  with  my  future  fatlier- 
n-law,  I  have  furnished  chatties  to  the 
Minerva  s-uiH.  lent  to  make  up  the  over- 
draft in  Godfrey  s  time,  Mr.  Joncp.' 

'  Past  twelve  ! '  said  Jenny  Findlay 
opening  the  door. 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


4S 


*  Exit   Lady  Randolph  !'  echoed  Skip- 


ton. 


CHAPTER  Xlir. 

Had  Mr.  Rankin  been  an  anatoiniat  of 
expression,  he  would  have  perceived  aoiiie 
trepidation  in  the  manner  in  which  Ed- 
ward Turner  addressed  Sarah  Graham 
during  the  shop  interview  which  he  de- 
sciihcd  to  his  frientia  in  Mrs.  Findley's. 
The  truth  is,  Edward,  without  at  idl  he- 
ing  conscious  of  it,  at  least  for  a  consider- 
ahlo  time,  had  hccome  deeply  enamored 
of  the  heiress  of  Craig  dlan.  When  love 
takes  place  at  first  sight,  there  is  no  mis- 
take ahdut  it ;  hut  in  numherless  in- 
stances, affection  lies  dormant  in  the  case 


these  morning  adorations  by  the  name  of 
love  ;  hut,  alas,  how  are  we  all  imposed 
on  by  words!  Foul  day  or  fair,  Eiward 
was  at  his  f)08t,  gathering,  or  pretendiai' 
to  gather,  specimens  ;  for  in  him  the  ex- 
pulsive power  of  a  new  afl^^ction  had  ex- 
emplified its  influence.  Love  was  fast 
heating  science.  The  possession  of  an  ex- 
otic, that  bloomed  only  once  in  the  cen- 
tury, would  have  been  willingly  relin- 
quished hy  him  fir  the  light  of  tme  kind 
smile  from  the  flower  of  Cr aigallan.  And 
yet  the  youth  was  more  timid  than  a  fawn. 
I'he  moiiiefit  that  Oscar  came  harking  for- 
ward, as  the  harbinger  of  Sirah,  Edward 
concealed  himself;  erne  fold  of  her  skirt 
was  joy  enough  for  him,  but  a  full  glinco 
of  her  laughin.g  face  was  extatic  bliss. 
Skillul  in  L*iie  analysis  of  natural  sub- 
stanees,  he  never  had  had  the  curiosity  to 
examine  his  own  feelings.      fhe  gulf  that 


of  those  who  see  each    frequently,   and,  j   i  •      i-  -    ■ 

does  not  become  app^irent  till  called  forth    S'T'^ri^'^"}  'i';n  'r<'in  i-irah  was  so  great 

by  some  distinct  occurrence;   the  inflam- r *';'.'^  mstinctivelyne  regarded  it  asimpaa 


mahle  element  is  there,  but  tire  is  neces- 
sary to  ignition.  Byron  says  that  be- 
tween likely  persons  friendshiji  is  love  half- 
fledged.  Edward  Turner  had  not  got  the 
length  of  friendship,  or  rather  he  over- 
leaped that  frigid  territory,  and  at  once 
fell  a  victim  to  the  all-ahsor'>ing  passion. 
He  first  saw  Sarah  in  church  ;  and  he 
could  not  recall  to  metuory  any  period  in 
his  history  when,  entering  that  solemn 
place,  he  had  not  cast  his  eyes  upward  to 
the  Craigallan  gallery.  It  was  so  far  a 
justification    of    his   misplaced    devotion, 


sable  :  the  idea  of  a  lilres-ing  lier  had  ne- 
ver enten-d  into  his  wildest  dreams.  But 
there  are  things,  as  we  all  know,  laying 
at  the  bottom  of  our  minds  which  wo 
dare  not  stir  up  ;  they  puss  withimt  chal- 
lenge, because  we  willingly  allow  them  to 
pass  without  <jl)servation  :  and  we  go  on 
in  life  in  a  state  of  voluntary  abstinence 
from  all  cimcern  regarding  them. 

And  so  Edward  went  on  with  Sarah, 
in  a  dreamy,  abstracted  mood,  habit 
lea  ing  him  to  view  her  afar  off  on  week- 
days, without    I  nowing  or  caring   at  the 


that  the  preacher  was  the  dullest  divine  I  '■'^"*^,  when  this  was  to  end  ;  the  only 
in  the  whole  presbytery  ;  but  much  it  is  gu'<ling  principle  for  the  time  being,  that 
to  he  feared  that  Massillon  himself  could  Uht'se    contemplations    aff.rded     him  the 


not  have  mimopolised  his  thoughts 
Some  people  have  the  singular  faculty  of 
arresting  the  attentitm  of  a  distant  person 
in  a  crowded  assembhige  by  continued 
staring;  apparently,  Edward  did  not  pos- 
sess this  magnetic  power,  as  Sarah  was 
not,  until  some  time  sifter  wards,  aware  of 
his  predilection  fir  her.  For  two  or  three 
years  he  had  regularly  bent  his  eyes  on 


highest  amount  of  earthly  happiness  that 
lie  had  enjoyed.  Edward  was,  in  short, 
very  deeply  in  love  ;  he  would  have  been 
broken  on  the  rack  before  he  would  have 
had  the  audacity  to  have  avowed  the  fact 
to  any  human  being  ;  and  he  would  have 
sunk  through  the  earth  had  any  one  evea 
cliarged  him  with  the  audacious  crime. 
But  however  these  things  might  be,  thero 


the  fair  girl,  as  she  sat  unconsciously  in  i  could  he  no  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  the 
her  pew  ;  hut,  as  might  have  been  expect- 1  ^^^^^  '<  '^  was  stuI)l)orn,  and  could  not  be 
ed,  this  Platonic   affection  could  not  hist  I  disputed. 

forever.  When  summer  came  round  with  j  For  long  after  the  interview  that  took 
its  golden  hues,  he  somehow  or  other,  al-  j  place  between  Edward  and  Sarah  as  to 
ways  contrived  that  his  botanical  excur-  j  the  best  adhesive  for  dried  plants,  Ed- 
aions  should  take  the  direction  of  Craigal-  ward  was  scarcely  himself,  lie  made 
kin.  Sarah  was,  like  hiunwdf,  a  very  many  mistakes  in  dealing  out  simples  and 
early  riser,  and  her  morning  walks  were  compounds,  and  had  n(jt  the  vigilant  eye 
almost  always  in  the  gardens ;  aud  as  the  of  Dr.  Anthony  been  upion  him,  he  would 
side  tiiat  lay  next  to  the  Allan  Water  was  have  made  a  Spanish-tly  blister  for  the 
not  inc'osed  by  walls,  but  men  ly  shroud-  rheumatic  shoulders  of  Iluyea  the  grocer's 
cd  by  trees,  he  could  easily  see  the  mia-  lady  too  pungent  by  many  degrees.  Naj 
tresa  of  his  affections  through  the  inter-  ho  went  so  far  wrong  one  day,  as  to  for- 
■tioes  of  the  foliage.  The  poor  lad  would  get  to  caress,  in  the  presence  of  her  mo» 
kftT*  been  startled  had  anybody  called  ;  ther,  Mrs.  Fitsi^ibbon,  the  name-daughtw 


46 


CRATGALLAN  CASTLE. 


of  the  paid  Mrs.  Tlnycs — nn  <  ff*nce  do-jMy 
odioiig,  t-ceiiig  that  the  old  lady  was  iitiii- 
su.dlv  ill  at  the  lime  ;  \vlii«h  hlundtr  cuii- 
viiiiotl  Mix.  J'iiZftihbcm,  with  whuin  he 
Was  rat  hi  r  a  lavurit*,  that  htr  husband, 
tlie  (loet'ir,  (iid  not  without  cause  eoni- 
jilaid  oi  till-  strange  and  uidonked-lnr  ab- 
pence  id  mind  that  liad  latterly  jiose^'sstd 
liim.  A  iHW  incident  gained  hmi  a  Be- 
ror.d  interview  with    the  inistrese  of  his 

It  so  happened  that,  on  C(niiing  to 
town  one  di.v.  Mrt^.  Martha  Martin  had 
{l8k^•d  and  ulnained  the  eeeort  of  Os*car  ; 
for  alihoiij;*  M.irtha  was  of  that  age  and 
nppiMrante  ttiat  waslikelj  torept-l  rather 
than  attraet  gallantry,  jet  liie  house- 
kft  per  all<  gi'd  her  nnwillingneps  to  trust 
hi-iselt  on  a  road  where  so  many  loose- 
lookn.ij  tt  llows  weri'  to  be  uiet  with,  un- 
less stie  had  guiniianshifi  of  some  kind  ; 
and  so  ( )>car  beeuiue  her  ehauijion.  In 
gambolling  up  and  down,  the  dog  drove 
Borne  hard  substance  into  bis  loot.  In 
endt-avoring  to  deaden  the  pain,  he  struck 
it  r'jreatfdjy  on  the  ground  ;  an  elibrt 
which,  of  course,  only  aggravated  the 
complaint,  and  sent  the  foreign  body  so 
far  into  tlio  tool  that  it  completely  disap- 
peared, and  the  part  swelled  and  it  be- 
Cauie  cousidnrably  inflamed.      Poor  Oscar  „  _ 

ju.ide  no  barking  comnlaint,  but  limped  ^T'lmded  over  a  ru.-tie  bridge,  and,  alter 
on  three  fnet  as  fast  aft.r  Martha  as  the  dancing  round  Edsvard  with  the  most  ob- 
pain  and  hi>  increasing  debility  would  per-  str.  perous  indications  of  joy,  seized  his 
init.  As  it  was  on  the  homeward,  not!  ''l^'eve  with  his  teeth,  and,  in  spiie  of  all 
on  tlie  outward  part  of  her  embassy,  that;  J''**  effirts  to  the  contrary,  detained  him 
Wari ha  was  m.-st  anxious  tbr  canine  dy- 1  until  Sarah  came  across  the  bridge  and 
fence,  the  animal  had  hem  sufi'.-ring  f,,r  i  f^i^i'i'^ert  d  him.  When  she  had  made  her 
some  t. me  h,  tore  she  missed  him,  and  I '^PP^''^**"^'"- <*^«"i' B'^*'in"<^  to  think  that 
When  she  did  think  of  him  and  turn  about  I  ^«  *"i'l  sufficiently  p.rh.rmed  the  cere- 
to  look  f  .r  liim,  she  found  the  foot  beyond  \  '"*jn.V  <»('  introduction,  and  accordingly  he 
the  (.o«er  of  remedy.  M*^t  ^^  ^^^  ^"''^  '^nd  resumed   Ms  tiyninas- 

1 -,     ,.       I     M     ,1,  ,„  1,     ii.     r.    J    tics.      Had  Edward  been  an    urchin  steal- 

Like  baiah.  Alarlha  was  much  attacneo  ' .  1  .  1      •       L 

.      ..  1.11  »        I    I  Jng  apiiles,  and  caujiht  in  the    very    act, 

to    ti-e  ,;nimal,   and    she    was     not    I'nlv    ,  ^     ",  ,         ^   ,  ■     ,     .  .-^  i-  . 

■'  '  fie  couiu    not  have  looked    more  loolish. 

no 

rise 

from  seeing  his  trej.iiiation,  which  was  80 

excessive  tlnlt  she  was  somewhat  puzzled 

what  to  make  of  liim. 

'  Oscar   seems    very   grateful  for  your 
kindness  to  him,'  said  Siirah. 

'  I  hope  I  am  not  intruding,'  stammered 

tlie  blushing  Edward.     '  I     was    merely 

atVering  some  botanical  sjiicimens  when 


ter  ,  Jie  then  took  a  1  iox  of  healing  oaxi- 
ment,  which  iie  was  carrying  to  a  patient, 
aiKl,  spreiidin;£  it  o\er  the  sore,  covered 
all  up  with  a  silk  handk.i  rchief  fun  isl  ed 
liy  Martha.  0^car  so.  n  felt  the  soothing 
t  ff.  CIS  of  the  a]  plication,  and  licked  the 
hands  of  his  deliverer  in  token  of  grati- 
tude. Edward  gently  Wii  him  home,  kept 
him  in  his  mom  all  night,  and  n<£t  day 
despatched  him,  convalescent,  in  one  of 
the  Craigallan  carts,  which  called  for 
him. 

On  returning  to  the  castle,  Martha  told 
the  story,  and  dwelt  with  much  unction 
on  the  liuujatiity  of  Edward,  and  how 
thoroughly  his  master  had  aj  proved  of 
liis  conduct.  In  a  day  or  two  after,  Sarah 
called  for  the  express  purpose  of  thaiiking 
Edward  for  Ids  kindness  to  the  dog;  fiut, 
true  to  his  timid  character,  he  rati  out  of 
the  shop,  and  left  Dr  Anthony  himself  to 
receive  the  acknowledgments  of  her  who 
was  ever  present  in  his  thoughts,  iiight 
and  day.  For  several  mornings  Edward 
had  not  the  ciTurage  to  go  in  sight  of 
C'raigall.in  ;  but  at  last  he  could  no  longer 
resist  the  temptation,  and  ventuied  to  his 
old  haunts.  Oscar  and  Sarah  came  tor- 
ward  as  usual;  but  instead  of  I  eeping 
within  the  limits  of  the  jjarden,  Oscar,  on 
catching  a  glimpse   of  tlie   strange  lorm, 


.  ,      .,  ,•    .  ,^  .     tie  coma    not  nave  looKea    more  looii 

griexed  loi   ilie  aaonv  that  Oscar  was  e\i- !  o       i  i    •         •      ■  r  ,    ^■^ 

•J     .1       „  J,    •.         I    *      I  •        i  barah,  not  l)cin<r    in  love,  telt  little  or 

Clentls     S'.Ueiing,     hut    she   Wiis   anxious         ,  ,"  ,       ,  .   , 

„.       "  .1       .•       ■,  .,    ,  ,,  ,      ,  ,     t'uiharrassment,  excejit    what  mmht  ai 

about  the   di-.uirhance  that  would  lie    felt  I  ,.  ■_      ,.\       , '.    ,.  ,•   , 

by  Sarah  at  the  mishap  that  her  ilivoritc 
bad  111!  t  with.  Oscar  could  walk  no  fur- 
ther; he  !  ly  down  and  moaned  mournful- 
ly, wliile  foam  came  from  liis  mouth,  and 
Water  fruiii  I  is  eyes.  M.irtha  was  much 
aniioyeo  when  she  thou^^ht  such  an  acci- 
dent liad  h.ppened  under  her  own  eye. 
She  appealed  to  everybody  witliin   reach, 

but  all  who  lilted  the  paw  put  it  down  '  the  dog  o.  tie  out  but  1  shall  go  away, 
again  w  it  hout  I.eing  able  to  render  any  nia'am.  I  beg  your  pardon,  indeed  I  do — 
relief     Ky  mere   accident,  Edward  came  !  very  much.' 

insi-ht;  he  needed  no  request  to  interest  'Oh,  you  need  not  tnaiVle  yourself 
himselt  ill  t;scar,  and  at  once  saw  the  na-  with  any  apologies,  it  is  I  that  'v-ive  to 
tuje  of  the  wound.  Getting  some  of  the  ]  thank  you.  Indeed,  I  called  the  other 
bystanders  to  h'ld  the  animal,  the  ama-  day,  on  purpose  that  I  might  thank  you, 
teur  surgeon  laid  ojien  the  loot  with  his  but  did  not  see  you,  which  I  was  eorrf 
penkuifc,  and  extracted  a  small  iron  splin- 1  for.' 


OEAIGALLAN   CASTLE. 


47 


'Yes,  ma'ain,'  said  tlie  unconscious 
youth. 

'  Do  you  find  this  a  good  place  for 
gathering  specimens?' 

'  Very  good :  but  1  ara  going  to  give  it 
up.' 

'  Why  so  ?' 

'My  collection  of  field-specimens  is  so 
conii)lete  that  I  do  not  rccjuire  any  more.' 

'  And  do  you  intend  to  collect  garden- 
spcciMiens?' 

'Nothing  would  give  me  more  pleasure, 
ma'am  ;  but  I  have  no  means  of  access  to 
nay  gai'dens.' 

'  If  our  garden  contains  any  tiling  that 
you  would  like,  you  are  most  welcome  to 
visit  it.  I  am  sure  my  father  would  not 
hinder  you  in  the  least.' 

'  I'.xcuse  me,  ma'am,  I  am  so  confused 
with  the  sudden  coming  out  of  the  dog. 
I  assure  you  I  did  not  speak  of  garden- 
specimens  with  any  view  to  your  llowers. 
1  beg,  ma'am,  that  you  will  believe  me  in 
this.'' 

'Oh,  certainly  ;  for  I  never  thought  of 
it  in  that  light.  If  you  come  and  take 
some  dowers,  I  shall  bo  glad;  for  it  will 
so  far  put  me  out  of  debt  for  Oscar's  husi- 
noss.  i3ut  I  owe  you  more  than  that — ' 
and  now  sh  ■  motioned  as  if  she  would 
take  out  her  purse. 

At  this  Edward  drew  himself  up,  and 
casting  a  haughty  glance  on  her,  uttered 
the  word  'Madani!'  in  a  tone  of  such  re- 
spectful y-t  firm  rebuke  that  Sarah  was 
glad  to  resume  h 'r  former  i)osture.  lie 
closed  the  interview  by  a  ceremonious 
bow,  which  she  returned  with  great  kind- 
ness. 

'  He  is  a  strange  young  man,  that,'  said. 
Sarah  to  herself;  I  was  once  poor  as  he 
is,  but  I  never  bore  my  poverty  with  an 
air  like  that.     Come,  Oscar.' 

Edward  was  in  no  hurry  to  avail  himself 
of  the  invitation.  Although  thinking  of 
it  every  bless  d  hour,  he  could  not  make 
up  his  mind  to  enter  the  gardens.  The 
idea  of  otl'ering  him  money,  too,  gall-  d 
Jiini  exceedingly.  In  his  adoration  of  Sarah 
he  had  been  subject  to  elevation  of  mind, 
and  had  been  soaring  high  in  imaginary 
hopes;  but  this  tender  of  cash  brougiit 
liim  back  to  his  sober  senses,  and  showed 
him  tbat  in  Sarah's  estimation  he  was  only 
a  shop-l.'id.  What  a  crash  this  was  to 
many  an  air-built  castle!  A  Pompeii 
of  fanciful  creations  were  overwhelmed 
M'hon  Sarah's  little  white  hand  moved  in 
the  directi.Ki  of  Mammon.  It  was  well, 
however,  for  Edward  that  he  had  received 
this  murtitication ;  for  otherwise  he  might 
havegoneon  dreaming  and  prolonging  in- 
dciinitcly  that  aimless  existence  which  is 
so  often  the  bane  of  the  young.     The  idea 


of  being  something  better  in  Sarah's  eyes 
now  occurred  to  him,  but  how  to  become 
so  he  vainly  attempted  to  conjecture. 

Some  time  after  tiie  above  incident,  Ed- 
ward had  occasion  to  be  in  a  bookbinder's 
shop,  and  there  saw  a  scrajj-book  contain- 
ing some  poetry,  drawings,  and  drii.(i 
plants.  On  turning  to  the  beginning,  iio 
there  found  Sarahs  name,  and  of  course 
examined  the  precious  volume  with  great 
curiosity.  Souieofthe  specimens  were 
named,  but  many  were  not;  Edward 
eagerly  took  up  a  pen  and  supplied  the 
deficiency.  The  binder  was  angiT^  at  his 
interference,  and  on  Sarah's  calling  next 
day  for  the  volume,  he  told  her  apologeti- 
cally what  had  happened.  So  far  from 
being  displeased,  she  said  that  the  young 
man  had  supplied  information  wbich  she 
had  for  some  time  been  at  a  loss  to  ob- 
tain, and  that  she  was  very  much  obligeil 
to  him  for  the  trouble  he  h.ul  taken.  '1  his 
message,  in  its  turn,  was  dul}-  communi- 
cated to  Edward,  who  resolved  to  visit 
Craigallan  forthwith. 

Accordingly,  next  morning  he  arrayed 
himself  'all  in  his  best,'  and  pursued  the 
well-frequented  road.  He  crossed  the 
little  bridge,  got  through  the  thicket  of 
trees,  but  saw  nobody.  He  commenced 
work,  however,  and  was  fast  filling  his 
case,  when  Oscar  came  d  .sbing  forward ; 
Sarah  followed,  and  then  Edward's  teeth 
fell  chattering  in  a  jnanner  quite  pitia- 
ble. 

'  So  you  have  come  at  last,'  said  Sarah. 
'  I  am  glad  yon  have  done  so,  as  I  would 
not  have  liked  that  any  friend  of  Oscar 
should  go  unrewarded.' 

'  You  are  very  good  ma'am,  very,'  re- 
plied the  bashful  Edward. 

'  I  did  not  know,'  resumed  Sarah,  '  that 
you  were  a  botanist.  I  thought  yuu  .only 
gathered  fiowers  to  make  me<lic-ines  with.' 

'  Pardon  me,  1  am  no  botanist.' 

'Indeed  but  you  are,  for  you  marked 
names  on  my  scrap-book  very  prettily'.' 

Edward  had  nothing  to  say  to  this,  and 
so  the  conversation  fiagged,  and,  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned,  would  have  3top])ed 
altogether,  for  he  was  fast  becoming  spell- 
bound Sarah  was  not  disposed,  however, 
for  a  Quaker  interview,  and  she  resumed 
by  asking  him  if  he  had  ever  been  in  the 
gardens  before. 

'  Never,  ma'am.' 

'  How  do  you  like  them?' 

'  Very  much.' 

'  My  father  has  been  consulting  a  land- 
scape gardener,  who  proposes  many  al- 
terations. Do  you  see  any  thing  that  yon 
think  should  be  altered?' 

'  I  cannot  say,  ma'am,  that  I  ara  a 
judge  in  such  mutters,  but  if  I  were  to 


48 


CEAIGALLAX  CASTLE. 


alter,  I  would   have  fewer    angles  and 
more  curves.' 

'  How  very  odd  ! — That  is  just  what 
the  English  gardener  said !  And  how, 
for  what  reason,  would  you  have  tlie 
curves  V 

'  To  vary  the  views  and  conceal  ex- 
tent.' 

'  AVhy.  you  must  have  been  studying 
the  subject !  That  is  the  very  reason  he 
gave,  also ;  and  my  father  and  none  of  us 
ever  thought  of  it;  but  now,  when  it  is 
mentioned,  we  all  see  it.' 

Clever  lad,  thought  Sarah.  We  had 
young  Taylor,  and  8niith,  and  (iregory, 
and  a  whole  host  of  uppish  young  men  at 
dinner  yesterday,  and  none  of  them  saw 
any  thing  wrong. 

Edward  was  plucking  some  '  last  leaves,' 
when,  in  an  evil  hour,  John  Graham  came 
up  to  him. 

'  What  are  you  doing  there,  sir  ?'  roared 
the  lord  of  Craigallan. 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,'  said  Edward, 
submissively. 

'  Beg  my  pardon  !  a  pretty  joke,  truly ! 
A  young  rascal  break*  into  my  grounds, 
tramples  down  my  flowers,  plucks  and 
carries  tliem-  ofi',  and  then  coolly  begs 
my  pardon ! ' 

In  gathering  a  nosegay,  Sarah  had 
turned  a  corner,  and  did  not  know  of  her 
father's  approach  till  she  heard  him 
speaking. 

'  Leave  the  ground  directly,  sir,  or  I'll 
call  for  the  dog  !  Had  he  been  good  for 
any  thing  he  would  not  have  allowed 
you  to  come  here.' 

'  Sir,'  answered  Edward,  '  I  shall  glad- 
ly leave  your  garden,  but  allow  me  to  ex- 
plain that  1  came  here  merely  to  gather 
specimens  for  a  botanical  collection.  1 
have  injured  neither  your  grounds  nor 
your  flowers;  you  will  see  from  my  case 
that  I  have  only  a  few  stems  and  flower 
leaves.' 

'  i  don't  care  what  you  have,  sir  ;  this 
is  my  garden,  not  yours,  and  that  is  siifti- 
cient!' 

Edward  bowed  low,  as  if  to  intimate 
that  he  acknowledged  having  committed 
a  breach  of  etiquette.  As  he  turned  to 
leave,  SuJ'ah  addressed  her  father. 

'  I  think  it  right,'  said  slie,  with  some 
confusion,  for  she  dreaded  his  temper,  '  to 
say  that  the  young  man  came  here  at  my 
retpiest.  He  is  the  same  young  man,  fa- 
ther, that  cured  poor  Oscar.' 

'  And  because  a  shop-boy  claps  a  plas- 
ter to  a  dog's  foot,  is  he  to  be  asked  into 
our  garden?  Why  not  have  given  him 
sixpence  at  once,  for  his  trouble,  and 
have  done  with  him  ?     I  am  surprised, 


Sarah,  that  you  should  condemn  yourself 
by  associating  with  such  low  people!' 

*  Low  men,  Mr.  Craham,  have  been 
|)()(>r  men.  but  poor  men  are  not  always 
low  men;'  and.  tossing  his  head,  Edward 
walked  proudly  oil",  taking  care,  in  cross- 
ing tiie  tiridge,  to  empty  the  contents  of 
his  case  into  the  water. 

'  Is  my  former  poverty  always  to  be 
cast  in  my  teeth  J'  muttered  Mr.  (iraliam 
with  a  scowl,  as  he  looked  after  Edward. 

Sarah  never  tliought  so  little  of  her  fa- 
ther as  slie  did  now.  The  calm  bearing 
of  the  huiiible  lad  contrasted  so  strongly 
with  the  rudeness  of  her  father,  that  site 
felt  abased  at  the  idea  of  the  comi)arison. 
The  germ  of  love  was  now  develof)ed  with- 
in her.  That  poor  but  noble-minded 
youth  had  been  insulted  through  her  un- 
thinking invitation  in  the  first  place,  and 
then  had  had  his  feelings  more  deeply 
woufided,  even  after  her  explanation. 
And  now  an  interest  was  excited  in  him 
that  could  not  easily  be  eradicated — an 
occurrence  had  happened  so  marked  in  its 
character  as  indelibly  to  be  registered  in 
the  tablets  of  memory,  and  to  work  its 
efl'ects  on  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the 
hidden  parts  of  the  soul.  The  few  angry 
words  of  John  Graham  had  caused  liis 
daughter  to  cease  to  be  a  girl,  and  chang- 
ed her  into  a  woman. 

Thenceforward  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Graham 
took  counsel,  and  Sarah  was  watched. 
But  the  surveillance  was  uncalled  for. 
Sarah's  walks  became  diminished  in  their 
length  and  frequency :  for  the  cares  of 
life  were  casting  their  shadows  before. 


CHAPTER  Xiy. 

On  leaving  Craigallan,  Edward's  first 
emotions  were  those  of  rage  against  Mr. 
(iraham  ;  but  very  soon  all  feelings  of  that 
description  w^ere  absorbed  in  pity  for  Sa- 
rah. A  hundred  times  he  bewailed  his 
rashness  in  .accepting  an  invitation  which 
he  now  thought  he  ought  to  have  foreseen 
would  sooner  or  later  involve  the  simple- 
hearted  and  benevolent  girl  in  some  mis- 
understanding with  her  parents,  whose 
haughty  and  domineering  pride  was  pro- 
verbial over  the  whole  country.  He  re- 
turned to  his  shop  duties  in  a  state  of 
thorough  despair ;  for  he  now  saw  that 
all  intercourse  witli  Sarah  was  at  an  end. 
No  longer  dared  he  be  seen  among  the 
woods,  or  wandering  by  the  water-side: 
nay,  he  could  not  even  indulge  the  hope 
of  casting  a  stolen  glance  on  Sarah  in  the 
church,  for  fear  that  the  lynx  eye  of  some 
of  the  family  might   be  upon  Mm,  and 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


49 


seeing  the  act,  bring  the  Lived  girl  into 
farther  trimhle. 

'  [f  I  bat  knew  how  to  leave  Paulton, 
and  where  to  go,'  was  his  co^^itati  in,  '  I 
should  Iniive  it  this  day.' 

His  wish  did  not  long  remain  ungrati- 
fied.  I'he  dispefitic  g«iitleiuan  for  wh»iiii 
lie  had  pn'scritied  in  detiance  of  the  prin- 
cifjles  uf  Dr.  Anthony  called  at  the  shop 
that  very  foreno-jn. 

'  I  want  80(ue  more  of  that  medicine, 
my  lid  ;  the  last  did  me  a  world  tit  gnud,' 
stiidthj  stranger,  who  was  a  hhifl"  ufil 
man.  '  I  suppose  you  intend  coming  out 
for  It  doctor  ?' 

'  i  have  not  the  means  of  coming  out 
for  luiy thing.' 

'  But  have  you  the  desire  to  come  out 
for  anything  ?"* 

'  Of  that  perhaps  too  much,  sir. 

*  Timn  whtire  there  is  a  will,  there  is 
always  a  way.' 

'  but  I  cannot  be  a  doctor  without  go- 
ing t<i  colh'i^e,  and  I  have  not  money  to 
pay  for  the  classes;  nor  would  I  kimw 
how  to  live  supposing  I  were  at  the 
classei)  ' 

'  1  was  just  coming  to  that,  but  you 
young  men  are  so  quick.  Can't  you  go 
to  St.  Daviil's  College,  carry  off  a  bur- 
sary, take  s<iine  private  teaching,  and  fiay 
your  tef s,  and  live  as  thousands  have  done 
before  you  V 

'  But  how  am  I  to  carry  ofifa  bursary  ?' 
asked  I'll  Aard  curi;»usly. 

*  By  your  knowledge  of  Litin.  I  sup 
pose  you  know  it  pretty  well  V 

lil  ward's  swelling  countenance  fell  at 
the  anriouacement. 

*  Al  IS,  sir,  [  do  not  know  Litin  I' 
'  N'insense  ?'  replied  tlie  old  irf^mleman ; 

*  or,  il  j'ou  <io  not,  you  have  till  win  er  to 
pick  it  up,  or  till  next  winter,  for  that 
matter.' 

Edward  reflected  for  a  little,  and  then 
said — 

'  Now  I  think  of  it,  I  have  a  smattering; 
of  Latin  from  reading  the  Pharmacopieia. 
and  1  have  got  some  from  botanical 
names  ;  and  there  is  Winters,  the  schiol- 
muster,  he  often  asks  nie  about  natural 
history.  If  I  offer  to  tell  him  all  I  kn  iw 
about  it,  he  will  give  me  Latin  in  exchage. 
ril  do  it.  But,  sir,  are  the  other  stu- 
dents good  linguists?' 

'  I  can't  tell  ;  liut  go  on  as  you  pro- 
pose. I  was  never  thoroughly  edueiled 
myself,  and  I  have  felt  the  w;Mit  of  it  all 
my  li(e.  Begin  you,  therefore,  at  the 
foundation,  and  remember  that  learning 
is  easily  carried,  and  is  always  <if  u?<i:. 
Put  on  a  bold  Iront  ;  don't  admit  tlie  ex-  I 
istence  of  impossibilities  ;  lay  down  your  j 
9bjeot  in  life,  keep  striving  after  it  through  i 


tliiek  and  thin,  and   there  is   no   fear  of 
you.      Are  you  proud  !' 

'  In  some  things  I  im,  sir,  and  in  others 
I  am  as  weak  as  a  h.ib>  .' 

'  Thought  as  much.  Well,  1  am  will- 
ing to  lend  you  souie  imirey  to  buy  books 
to  lulp  you  on  in  ycmr  studies.' 

'  I  ean not  borrow  when  I  do  not  see 
how  I  am  to  repay." 

'  Don't  talk  niinsense  I  T  see  how  yon 
can  repay,  and  thit  is  enough.  Here  are 
live  pouixls  ;  jrive  me  a  receipt,  binding 
yours'  If  to  refund  when  you  ure  abie  and 
willing;  and  it  I  sliouM  he  Uea<l  hel<jro 
that  tiiiie  comes,  give  it  to  some  1  id  wlio 
may  then  be  as  p<Kjr  and  des-rving  as  ytm 
are  now.  Dont  starid  staring  ;  writeout 
the  d.icument  as  I  bitl  you.  Have  you 
any  relations  V 

*  Yes,  sir,  a  mother.' 
'  Do  you  write  to  her,   and  help  her  as 
YOU  can  ?' 

;      '  Yes.'* 

'  '  Tliat'e  right.  Now,  my  name  is  Hodges, 
12  I'odd-street,  St.  Divids;  eall  on  me 
when  you  come  to  colhsge,  or  wriu;  to  me 

'  before,  if  you  will.  Even  if  you  get  into 
any  serape,  write  me ;  but  mind  the 
truth,  although  it   should  condemn    you. 

I  Farewell." 

I      '  Stop,  sir,'    cried    Edward.     '  [    have 

'  not  thanked  you,  and  I  do  not  know  how 

I  to  do  it.      \'ou  are  so  diffe  ent    Irom' any 

I  person  thati  ever  yet  met  with  :  so  much 
kindness  to  a  stranger  quite  overpowers 
me.' 

'  . '  Don't  be  afraid.  T  never  act  from 
capricef  Had  the  inquiries  I  made  of 
you  not    been  sati.-factovy,    I  should  not 

I  have  troubled  myself  al)out  you.  I  know 
ilr.  Hayes  here,  and  made  hun  ask  your 
master.  When  a  master  speaks  ^vell, 
things  are  not  far  wnmg.  But  keep 
dowu  pride  ;  it  does  not  sort  well  with 
poverty.  Always  dip  when  the  wave 
comes,  and  keep  in  view  that  no  one  can 
sit  in  Rome  and  (juarrel  witli  the  P  >pe.' 

Edward  now  ^aw  a  way  of  eseipe,  and 
resolutely  did  he  set  about  liisdeliveianoe. 
Th^it  night  he  commenced  bis  studies  with 
Winter,  the  schoolmaster,  and  next  morn- 
ii»g  he  repaid  him  in  hat  inio  il  c  lin,  taking 
Care  to  get  as  much  Latin  introduced  into 
t'le  uonvorsation  as  possible. 

AN  Episode. 

In  a  small  .cottage  between  Oaiijallan 
Cii.><tle'and  tlio  sea  lay  a  dying  child.  It 
was  Ine  I  liiog  hard,  a  ,d  seemed  near  its 
1  ist,  the  usual  domestic  remedies  ha\'ing 
been  tried  in  vain.  Th«  mother  and  a 
neighbor  sto  >d  by  the  iiedside  in  speech- 
less agony.     A  knock   a  t  le  door  r. called 


50 


CRAIGALL^VN  CASTLE. 


feer  to  her  senses,  find  npeninjr  it,  Martha 
Mnrtiii  i-.iiiit*  ill,  aci'onijiaiiifd  by  a.  tjer- 
\aiit  I'liinit.g  rt'stinitivi  fl. 

•  Many  tlianks,'  eaiii  the  mother,  'hut 
she  ran  lak  naeihinj;.  She  is  jii«t  dceing 
tlie  tiairie  way  hs  her  t<it>tfr  did.  and  Jack 
is  n<)  hire  to  chwe  her  eyes.  When  h»;;_ 
came  hairk  Irum  ]\\s  Jast  voyajre  he  turtn  tl 
dizzy  wh(  n  he  saw  uiy  loi«k.  and  the  Mark 
rili'iiin  on  my  eap.  1  ;!nuidna  hpeak,  lait 
cried  and  jMiinted  to  M-ijigy .  an(i  then  he 
Baw  what,  we  had  l^st  And  he  sailed 
to-da)  ;  and  althiinjrti  he  ki.ssed  her,  as 
he  thougNi,  for  the  hist  time,  he  tried  to 
make  itit--  hilieve  that  thfre  was  nae  dan- 
ger. His  ship  is  lyi'ig  sit  anrhur  in  the 
roads  tliere,  ar.d  he  daurna  couie  on  shore 
to  see  his  last  hairn  dee.  Uh,  what  poor 
folk.-  h.ie  to  sufler!  1  should  greet  my 
een  out,  Mrs.  Martin,  but  I  canna  get  one 
tear,  and  my  ^ery  heart  is  like  ta  hurst. 
Oh,  piy  h.urn^!  my  jiour  h  lirn  ! 

'  Ilive  ye  sent  lor  Dr.  Fitz^ibbon?' 

'  I  have  had  naehndy  to  send  ;  and  I 
never  was  a.hle  to  pay  liiui  Cor  Jet'Sie.' 

'Never  mind  payment;  I'll  pay  him 
mysel'.  Kin,  Betsy,  into  the  town,  and 
bnng  the  doetnr  as  f.ist  as  y  can.' 

Hetsy's  heels,  shod  with  Uiercy,  per- 
formed their  office  well  ;  and  on  arriving: 
at  Dr.  Anthony's  she  liiund  the  «hop shut, 
the  evening  being  now  advanced,  She 
went  round  to  the  kitchen  and  toM  her 
Btory  to  her  contemporaries  in  the  physi- 
cian's estaltlishment,  who,  with  lemale 
pity,  listened  to  her  tale,  and  duly  con- 
veyed it  to  tiieir  majtter.  Anthony,  how- 
evf-r,  was  tired — had  been  out  all  day  ; — 
and  therefore  recommended  them  to  try 
»ome  other  doctor. 

'  These  poor  people,'  said  he  to  his  wife, 
'  have  nt>  conscience.  I  attended  the 
child  of  that  sailor  before,  and  am  not 
paid  to  this  hour.  The  parish  wont  ptiy 
when  it  does  not  cmpl'-y-  To  he  sure,  if 
Graham  himself  had  sent  forme,  he  might 
have  paid,  hut  as  for  this  housekeeper, 
how  is  sfie  to  pay  ?  1  liave  had  my  time 
with  the  poor,  let  the  yimng  iellows  look 
after  them  now  ;  it  will  give  them  prac- 
tice and  keep  their  hand  in.' 

Betsy  ran  to  another  h-evdi,  >.e  wms  in 
the  country  ;  to  a  thini,  hut  he  was  out 
among  his  patients  ;  atid  so  the  anxious 
gill  could  hut  only  call  in  at  Anthony's 
kitchen  on  her  way  home,  and_  tearfully 
tell  ;>f  her  had  suceews,  and  again  implore 
the  influence  of  the  doim  sties  with  their 
master.  It  was  of  no  use,  t'ney  told  her. 
he  had  of  late  often  refused  sin'.ilar  appli- 
cations ;  and  so  Betsy  had  to  retrace  her 
Bteps  to  the  house  of  mourning.  On 
regaining  the  cottage,  she  found  the  mo- 
ther and  Martha  silently  attending  the 


bed  of  death,  while  the  cnild  itself  WM 
visiMy  declining.  In  broken  accents, 
Betsy  told  the  story  of  her  unsucce»»ful 
missi  tn. 

'  iNhiy  God  have  mercy,  for  man  haa 
none !  said  the  distressed  mother  ;  and 
she  8. it  down,  covering  her  lace  with  her 
I  hands,  the  very  frenzy  of  desp  lir  beget- 
j  ting  an  unesuthly  c.lmness,  now  that 
slie  saw  the  last  shred  of  hope  torn  from 
her. 

Suddenly  the  door  opened,  and  the  hus- 
band came  in. 

'  is  she'living.  Molly  ?' 

The  mother  give  a  low  shriek,  and 
cliisped  him  in  her  arms  ;  and,  leading 
him  to  the  h(^lside,  implored  the  child  to 
look  at  its  hither. 

'  It's  father,  Magxy  I — father  come  o'er 
the  sea  to  see  his  aiii  Maggy  ?  A'ye,  look 
to  father,  Maggy.' 

The  poor  child  lifted  its  fingers  as  if  to 
tell  that  it  heard  the  appeal  hut  could  not 
resiinnii  to  it. 

'  Dinna  tell  him  about  Uie  doctor,  it 
would  drive  liim  mad,'  said  tlie  mother 
apart  to  Betsy. 

A  visilile  darkening  came  over  the  face 
of  the  siiif  rer,  and  the  onlookers  held 
their  breath  so  close  that  th.-y  themselves 
seemed  scarcely  to  live,  so  awing  was  the 
suspense  induced  by  the  change  and  the 
a[  panntly  near  approach  of  the  dread 
Catastrophe. 

But  although  the  power  of  death  was 
there,  its  hour  had  not  Come  _  Again, 
latwever,  another  blackening  swept  over 
the  suffused  face,  and  the  s  !ih)r,  in  a 
choking  voice,  said  something  about  the 
doctor. 

'  lie  has  been  sent  for,  Jack,'  said  hia 
wife. 

Shortly  after  Betsy  left  Dr.  Anthony's 
kitchen,  Edward  came  in,  and  to  him  the 
case  ol  the  sailor's  child  was  told. 

'  1  am  sure,  Ned,'  said  one  of  the  ser- 
vants, '  I  have  often  heard  the  poor  folk 
say  that  you  have  dore  them  more  goo<? 
than  the  dtH;tt)r  himself.  You  should  gc 
out  and  see  the  poor  innocent.' 

'  Certainly,'  said  Edward.  '  Give  me  a 
crust  of  bread,  so  that  I  may  be  taking 
my  supjier  by  the  way.' 

fhe  young  physieian  lost  no  time  by 
tile  road,  but  he  pursued  his  path  witf 
mixed  emotions;  for,  since  the  eventful 
morning  in  the  garden,  he  had  not  tiU 
then  been  on  the  Craigallan  road.  Ar- 
riving at  the  hut,  he  made  his  way  to  the 
bedside,  his  entrance  and  aiipenrance  ex- 
citing no  attention  on  the  part  of  the  by 
standers,  who  were  all  absorlied  by  th« 
state  of  the  suffering  babe.  A  single 
'<  lance   showed  Edward    that  not  a  mo. 


CRAIG  ALL  AN  CASTLE. 


51 


HAnt  was  to  he  l(^t ;  an'i  so  he  took  out 
hiH  laruMU,  and  tu  ulu  a  lW;e  iiici^i<ui  in  tlie 
thf'Mt.  Tlie  hl(H((J  gushed  trt;cl_y  ft»rth, 
arj<i  a  i'iN^-<ir<twr)  hiv.icti  tr<Mu  tlie  ciiiM 
shitweiJ  (iMi  ri'Sfiiration  wnn  about  t«j  n;- 
euLue  its  faucti<iii:i  UM(ttt^)e(icii.  Tlit; 
'W'Murnl  'ii*inf5  siiurlly  after  stanclnid,  tli« 
pittiMit  (Ml  into  a  q-'ii<;t iilr^c'p,  aii<l  all  ()r>>- 
lui.-i>:tl  t.»  ')j  well.  A  tt'ur  gitluTeii  in  tii« 
weat/iiT-twateii  lace  i*I  tiie  8,i.ilir.  ami  lh« 
li|i,s  iit  iiiu  lu^jtlit^r  uiovcii  aii  it  iu  riilcut 
pray>  r. 

•  «ii.i.l  will  reward  }■(»«,  my  honoy  uiaij,' 
eai'J  M  u'ttia,  a  tear  alou  diLuming  her  -Ad 

file  » lilur  clasped  Edwatxi  by  the  hand 
witu  his  licirii^  tiiigors,  iuid  ilie  grasp  was 
like  C>i  itul'a  vioe  ;  l)iat  he  cuuld  nut  s^icak 
iiis  ilianks.  Again  tUe  door  upeued,  and 
ati.alier  n<idi)r  eanie  in- 

'J  .OK  Arthur,'  8<ud  he, '  if  yctu  are  g'»- 
ing  iin  'i.tard  tn-night,  cnnie  ;  l-r  a  lireeze 
ii)  ri-nig  t'roiu  tUe  .-sea,  and  it  will  take  uh 
all  we  liMi  t<i  rovv  on  l)i<ard  ;  and  if  we  are 
luidned,  (*r  die  l>{-ig  staudd  from  land,  we 
YiiU  t«  >in  of  ud  get  Lur  leave,  or  Boiue- 
thiug  worse.' 

Tlie  Warning  was  not  anneeeesary  ;  f  t, 
unhei^d.-d  liy  the  nun  ites  of  the  cottaj;e, 
a  vi  ilent  8toriu  of  win<l  had  risen,  wfii'iti 
eho  ik  trie  frail  t^nfuii'iit  to  its  founda- 
tion. I'lie  tr<'t.s  Were  bending  and  ernak- 
ing  und«-r  its  influiMice  ;  while  in  the  dis- 
tance the  liowliiig  of  the  sea  was  heard 
witit  ominous  lou  Intss. 

J  ii-k  Kissed  his  wile,  8ho.)k  hamls  with 
the  Tf.Ht,  and  darted  out. 

'  N  I  boat  will  live  in  a  night  like  this,' 
said  riis  .vile,  trying  to  eateh  him,  liut  he 
burst  fi-.tiu  her  tetl»lf  hold,  and  hied  to  the 
be.icb.  EJwJirl  f  >ll(twed  ;  while  Martha 
an'i  B.itsy  r-Muained  to  watch  the  child. 
On  re.ichiiig  the  shore  they  found  that 
thi-  b  lat  h  id  been  driven  np  on  the  sand, 
but  t  ■rt.unately  had  sustained  no  diniajje. 

It  r  quired  the  effats  of  all  the  four  to 
lanneli  it  again  ;  and  as  the  storm  still 
rose,  the  wile  agiin  renewed  her  protest 
ag.iiist  thtir  embarking. 

'  O,  Jack  what  w(juld  it  be  to  me  to 
fi  IV.'  a  livitig  bairn,  and  lose  you?  Dear 
J.ick,  >tiy  :  it  may  clear  up  in  a  little.' 

'  M.riy,  I  cannot  do  it.  Joe  and  I  came 
off  without  leave.  Something  may  h;ip- 
p  n  r.i  the  bo  it.  At  the  turn  of  the  tide 
til''  brig  will  Iv'ar  off;  and  if  .-^lie  goes  out 
to  .s- 1  in  a  night  liku  this,  with  twonands 
nil ort.  the  wliole  will  be  1  >st.  Go  back 
to  ilie  'ion-<e  with  this  uentli-niun  ;  and  i 
iv'ill  put  a  light  up  above  the  otiier  light 
At  tlie  tiooui  theie,  which  will  let  you 
know  that  we  are  s.ife.     Go,  now.' 

All  entreaty  being  in  vain,  the  two 
tailors  waded  into  the  water,  to  shovw  off 


t-he  boat ;  but  wind  a^d  wave  beinj 
against  the  little  bark,  it  made  no  mow 
pni;livs.'<  than  if  it  li.id  been  a  fe  .ther. 
Occasional  gleams  of  the  moon  showed  ttie 
helpii-ss  nifti  plying  their  oars  in  d«'S(Kra- 
tioo,  their  (i.irk  hair  streaming  in  thtj 
wind,  whilst  a.iaan'l  liurrnMne  rig^d  «iih 
conlinufd  fury,  and  r-iaied  like  th--  thun- 
dering o!  cinnoti  in  a  battle.  Elw;ird 
had  the  utmost  dilScnlty  in  preventing 
Mrs.  .\rtluir  from  rushing  int.)  the  set  in 
her  v.tin  eff.rts  to  cry  to  the  men  to  re- 
t<irn.  After  a  long  an.«l  weary  hour  tlie 
bo  it  went  out  of  m»cht  ;  hut  wliethtT  ous 
<d' sight  beiuuise  further  from  the  shore, 
or  whether  swamped,  the  terrified  jjazera 
could  not  tell.  I  lie  night  beCinue  bl  u  ker, 
iind  the  tentp 'St  reveiled  in  its  stren;^th. 
For  many  joghts  the  worn. in  had  watched 
<iver  her  b.ihe,  without  scarcely  ttnjcliing 
A  meal.  I'liinly  clad  now,  and  drenched 
to  the  skin,  she  stood  auiong«t  the  soak- 
in;;  sand  and  sjiTiy,  strong  aiKl  resolute 
in  her  iff  cii.m,  >fr.ii'iing  In-r  almost  sight- 
less e\es  in  her  eff  >rts  to  citch  the  looned- 
for  object  on  the  bl  i<k  surtiwie  of  the  an- 
gry waters.  No  fligiing  was  there,  no 
fiinting,  or  weariness,  ft»r  she  Wiis  nerved 
by  the  poteiwy  of  woman  s  love,  and  could 
affird  to  be  indifferent  to  the  lashing  ol 
wind  and  storm. 

'  Go  back  to  the  «ott;ige  and  look  after 
the  chilli,  and  I  will  remain  here  and  teH 
you  when  1  see  the  lights,    said  Edward. 

'  I  will  not  leave  this  until  1  know  the 
best  or  the  worst ;  but  d(»  you,  for  the 
love  of  Heaven,  run  up  and  see  the 
bairn.' 

'  [  cannot  leave  you  by  yourself.' 

*  I  can  e  isily  take  care  of  myself — don't 
be  afraid  of  that ;  but  go  and  see  the 
bairn . ' 

'  Well,  T  will  go  ;  but  .as  T  might  not 
easily  find  you  ajiain,  come  back  with  me 
to  the  tree  jit  the  h.ittom  of  the  road,  and 
keep  hold  of  it  till  I  return.' 

This  she  ajjreeil  to,  and  Edward,  after 
conducting  her  to  the  tree,  proceeded  b.ick 
to  the  cottage.  The  child  still  slept,  but 
the  two  females  wt^re  s.-nlly  agitated. 

'  If  we  are  missed  out  of  the  castle 
there  will  be  a  terrible  business,' said 
M  irtha  ;  '  but  fll  rather  ^1  e  >'(>  mv  place 
tlian  leave  a  sick  bairn  by  itself  in  a  house 
like  this.  And  yet  linloth  not  to  be  wi' 
my  young  mistress  in  such  a  nicht.  The 
wind  makes  a  fearful  noise  in  the  auld 
Cistle,  and  if  she  was  comin'  to  inv  room, 
in  I  finding  me  out,  wh  it  could  she  do? 
IJiit  she  has  oer  mm-klc  sense  to  r.iise 
ony  alarm.  G  in<x  back,  sir,  and  see  bow 
the  y)iiir  woman  is.  1  doot  sair  she'll  bt 
a  wriow  this  nicht.' 

'  I  dinna  wonder  at  Misa  Sarah  Bpeak* 


S2 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


ing  about  that  lad,'  thought  M:irtha. 
'  He's  a  bniw  ciJlmit,  and  a  epirit  that 
•will  bring  him  »•  something  yet.'  And 
then  she  added  aloud  to  Eetcy,  '  Poor 
fallow,  he's  dreepjng  to  the  skin !  He 
would  Ije  better  ol'  something  inside  as 
■well  as  out ;  and  if  1  h:id  him  up  the 
May,  he  should  ha'e  had  baith  ;  but  in  a 
inistTahle  place  like  this  here,  there  is-no- 
thivg  either  ti>r  soul  ur  bixiy.' 

Edwird  returned  to  the  mother,  and 
told  her  iif  the  child's  salety. 

'  God  'x-j.raised  !  But  oh,  sir,  this  is 
a  territile  Be-i.  1  have  sometimes  seen  the 
brig  s  licht  since  you  went  away,  but  the 
waves  iire  fo  high  that  I  can  only  catch  it 
at  tirnes      J>ee,  there  it  is  again  !' 

'So  do  I.  And  nuw,  as  1  live,  there 
are  two  lights,  one  above  the  other.* 

'  Diima  SJty  that,  sir  ! — dinna  say  it, 
for  I  hiive  heen  hoping  against  hope  ;  and 
if  I  was  to  lie  upliited  and  again  cast 
down,  i  couldna  live  after.  Look  again, 
sir,  for  1  daurna  look  mysel"  !' 

'  I  am  not  mistaken,  there  are  two. 
Look  quick,  before  the  wave  rises  again  ' 

'  I  see  !  I  see  !  I  see  !  Blessed  be  the 
name  ot  the  Lord  *' 

And  the  wit«  and  mother  fell  down  on 
her    knees    in  grateful  adoration. 

Edward  took  her  home,  and  then  es- 
corted the  two  females  to  the  castle,  and, 
refusing  to  enter,  walked  wearily  into 
town  ;  and  tumbling  into  his  dark  garret, 
ended  the  events  ot  this  chequered  night. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graham  began  at  last  to 
discover  that  they  had  a  daughter,  and 
that  if  tley  did  not  look  sharply  after  her, 
bhe  would  not  only  asf ociate  with  ])lel>eian 
persons,  but  acquire  }ilebeian  notions, 
without  ever  coming  into  cimtact  with 
these  oflensive  persons.  She  was  essi  ii- 
tially  vulsur  in  her  mind,  at  least  so 
thought  Airs.  Graham,  and  had  foolish 
ideas  ahout  poverty  not  being  inherently 
bad  which  required   immediate  attention. 

'  I  am  sure,  mother,  said  she  one  day, 
'  when  we  were  all  f>oor  before  uncle  died, 
I  did  not  feel  myself  a  bit  worse  than  1 
do" now.  Indeed,  I  rather  think  I  was, 
upon  the  whole,  happier  then  ;  for  I  was 
not  so  much  schooled  about  propriety, 
and  I  was  free  from  all  I  ind  of  restraint.' 

'  Child,  you  tulk  like  a  fool  !  Tn  genteel 
life  there  is  no  such  thing  as  restraint; 
the  whole  object  of  gentility  is  ease  ;  and 
if  you  had  proper  views  you  would  feel 
that  lofty  notions  of  decorum  would  be- 
oorae   natural,  and    the    actions  flowing 


from  them  easy.  But  the  truth  is,  yo^ 
have  been  rather  neglected  ot  late,  and 
therefore  you  must  make  up  your  mind 
to  go  Irom  home  ;  and  when  yon  see  how 
other  young  ladies  in  your  station  behave, 
you  will  discover  the  necessity  -f  giving 
up  all  your  oddities,  if  juu  mean  tore- 
main  in  civilised  society  at  all.  I  have 
good  accounts  of  Miss  Staich's  fiidsiiing 
boarding-e^tahlitihment  at  St.  Da\id's, 
and  we  mean  to  send  yoa  there  for  the 
winter  ;  and  I  am  very  much  mistaken  if 
you  do  not  find  better  associates  there 
than  druggists"  boys.  Many  of  the  young 
ladies  wbo  live  there  have  colonels  and 
majors,  honorables  and  right  houorahles, 
for  their  hrothers,  cousins,  and  fathers; 
and  as  relations  are  allowtd  to  call  on 
Saturdays,  you  will  in  the  course  t)fthe 
wintt-r  see  many  people  of  distinction,  su- 
perior even  to  those  )ou  have  seen  here, 
although  I  have  always  tried  to  keep  our 
circle  select.  Ft/r  my  sake,  for  your  own 
sake,  keep  up  your  dignity,  and  do  not 
be  affronting  the  family  with  any  ot  your 
out-of-the-way  absurdities.  Mind  that 
\ou  are  the  only  representative  of  the 
house.  Had  1  ordy  had  a  son,  or  had  you 
not  been  a  daughter,  I  should  have  been 
Siived  a  world  of  trouble.' 

'  I  shall  do  what  I  can  to  please  yoo, 
mother ;  espec-ially  as  I  am  ghid  at  the 
idea  of  going  to  vSt.  David  8,  for  it  has 
been  very  dull  here  for  some  tiins.  But 
in  order  that  I  may  not  misunderstand 
you,  pjeaae  say  what  it  is  that  you  wish 
me  particularly  to  attend  to.' 

'  I'hat  is  ea>*ily  done.  Associate  with 
none  but  people  of  your  own  rank.  OJ 
above  it,  and  do  nothing  that  will  appeal 
str.mge  to  them.' 

'But  has  God  not  made  us  all,  mo- 
ther?' 

'Of course,  girl;  hut  not  equally.  1 
don't  mind  patronising  poor  people,  by 
subscribing  for  them,  or  being  |Jace<i 
on  a  coniniittee  to  assist  them  ;  but  as  fol 
visiting  them  in  their  dirty  houses,  and 
hanging  over  their  beds,  nobody  bu* 
nurses,  or  boys  who  cure  dogs,  should  da 
that.' 

'  If  you  allude,  mother,  to  Dr.  Fitzgib- 
bon's  young  man,  he  saved  poor  Mrs. 
Arthur's  child  the  other  night.' 

'Ob,  nonsense,  child!  How  can  you 
be  imposed  on  with  such  stuff!  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  killing  poor  people's 
children.  If  you  see  them  at  death'i 
door  to-night,  be  sure  that  they  will  be 
all  right  to-morrow.  That  old  woman, 
Martha,  is  always  at  fixr-fetch*'d  inven- 
tions; but  I  have  told  her  plainly,  that 
if  she  leaves  the  castle  at  night,  to  go 
round  among  sick  jiaupers,  and  bring  in 


craigallan  castle. 


fection  amongst  os,  1  shall  dit^iuiss  her 
without  c'jreiuoiij.  She  is  oM  atul  stujiid  ; 
and  were  it  not  that  tslie  has  U-cn  in  guud 
faiuilii's,  and  one  docs  nut  like  to  have  or- 
din^tiy  (J»uiestic8  iu  an  establishiueut  like 
this,  I  should  have  ji;irU<i  with  her  lung 
a^(i.  However,  thank  lieaveii  !  you  will 
be  uut  of  her  reach  for  the  winter,  at 
lease' 

'•  I  can  assure  you,  mother,  thatyoft  do 
Martha  great  jnjustioe  in  suiipusing  that 
she  has  had  any  hand  in  cuntiiiuing  any 
{laliite  tliat  you  complain  of;  fur  she  has, 
on  the  contrary,  ol'len  told  ine  hu\v  un- 
like (  was  to  the  young  ladies  that  she 
has  Seen  iu  great  houses.' 

'  And  luueh  effect  her  telling  has  had ! 
But  go  and  get  yourself  dressed  in  time 
to  go  into  town  for  the  elocution  lecture. 
i  aiu  told  that  there  arc  ujany  genteel 
peojib;  U)  be  tlicre  this  evening  ;  and  Mr. 
Sdeiidati  liiuster,  the  lecturer,  asked  our 
palronagc  iu  sucli  a  respectful  manner, 
tliat  1  could  not  think  of  rel using  it,  al- 
though I  told  liiui  of  my  general  rule  of 
declining  idl  such  requests  after  the  Wiiy 
that  we  were  used  at  Cymhoi's  concert; 
the  old  wretch  having  secured  all  the  best 
naiues  round  about  for  his  patrons,  and 
then  coming  into  the  hall  in  a  --.tate  of  iu- 
toxieati on,  iind  quarrelling  with  his  wite 
before  tiie  whole  audience,  who,  poor  wo- 
Uiait,  ougliC  to  have  hoeu  pitied,  had  nut 
6ome  rouge  on  the  tip  of  her  nose  looked 
Verj  Jute  as  if  she  haa  been  in  the  same 
posiiton  herself.  But  Bluster.  I  am  sure, 
ts  a  d',-serviog  person,  and  speaks  so  well 
that  he  asks  you  1 1  buy  his  tickets  ;  but 
when  pt^ople  are  from  hand  to  mouth, 
they  aiw'.ijs  let  out  little  improprietifS. 
Nobody,  my  dear,  can  be  genteel  without 
l>eing  itidt|iendent,  aud  noiwdy  can  be  iu- , 
dependent  without  money!' 

'  liut  if  people  live  according  to  what 
they  have,  and  don't  get  into  debt,  mo- 
ther, would  they  not  tlien  be  indepen- 
dent '' 

*  Of  the  jiil,  cert^iinly,  hut  no  more; 
and  such  pt^ople  cm  never  get  into  socie- 
ty, unless. they  have  a  vast  deal  of  mo- 
ney. Vou  m  ly  re^*i  in  foolish  books  and 
liew'spapeis,  which  now-a-d<i_)8  contain  a 
great  (ie.ti  of  nonsense,  about  virtuous 
poverty  and  such  like,  but  1  never  yet 
kne**'  any  good  come  of  hard-up  people. 
They  are  always  committing  forgery,  or 
che.tiin^  in  some  w.iy  or  other.  But, 
speauing  of  Bluster,  I  W(juld  have  asked 
him  to  give  you  some  lessons ;  but  as 
tiit;re  is  itn  elocuriou-ui.ister  at  Miss 
Starch's,  it  will  be  as  well  lor  you  to  get 
your  iiccomplislnuenls  at  one  time.  Noa-, 
get  ready  ;  the  coach  will  be  here  pre- 
•crutly.' 


Mr.  Sheridau  Bluster  was  )ne  oPthoM 
itinerant  orators  who   teach  eloquence  by 
rule,  who  critieise  the  S[ieakers  ut  the  pul- 
pit, scn.ite,atid  bar,  give  speeimens  of  each, 
and  m.ike  young   m-n  b  -liLive,  and   often 
their   ntotliers  in  avldition,  that  they  can 
turn  out  Foxes,  Pitts,  and  Erskines  ready- 
made,   lie  Wiis  considered  a  genteel  teach- 
er, in   respect  that   be  had  a  stately,  de- 
corous apiH'arance,  arising  partly  from  hia 
being  constantly  adorned    with    a   snow- 
white    neckcloth,  g<ild  chain,  and    sable 
under-garments.      Some  wonder    w:i«  at 
times  expressed  wiiy  Mr   Bluster  had  not 
betaken  himself  to  the  practice  in  actual 
lice  of  the  science   w  hicrh   he   taught,  and 
so    have   liecome    an    arciibjshop,    prime 
minister,  or  chancellor ;   but  Mr    Bluster 
j  modestly  hint^-d  that  his  vocation  was  to 
teach,  and  that,  so  far  as  worldly  afiplause 
I  went,  bis   ambition  was  satisfied    by  the 
success   which  had  a' tended  on  so  many 
I  of  the  divines,  statesmen,    and    lawyers 
I  whom    he  had  been  privileged  to  instruct 
in  tlie    noble    art   of  eff-ctive   harangue. 
During  his  visit   U)  Paulton,  Mr.  Bluster 
j  had  t  Liight  the  ingenuous  youth  how  to 
recite    '  l»rd  Ullins    Daughter,'    '  Toby 
I  Tosspot,'  '  Tlie  Seven  Ages,' '  Norval  and 
(ilenalvon,'  ifoc.     Our   friend  Skipton  was 
I  not,  as  a  matter  of  course,  a  pupil,  l)ut  he 
got  lessons  at  second-hand,  and  religious- 
ly attended  all   the  public  exhibitions  of 
the  learned  lecturer.     Not  content,  how- 
ever,   with    splitting    the    ears    of    such 
groundlings,  Mr.   Bluster  essayed   some- 
thing   more   refined  ;    and,   accordingly, 
soaring  above  mere  recitation,  he  conceiv- 
ed   the    idea   of  extemporaneous    debate 
among  his  pupils,  and  as  p-'ace   and  Wiir 
among    the    Clreeks    and    Romans    were 
hackneyed  theuies  to  be  found  in  school- 
books,  he  conceived  that  a  literary  topic 
would  best  suit  the  style  of  novelty  with 
which  he  wished  all  his  plans  to  be  stamp- 
ed.     x\.t  this    time,  in    imitation   of  the 
'  Edinburgh   Review,'  it  was    the  fashion 
to  decry  Wordsworth  ;  '  Blackwood's  Ma- 
P^azirie'  hiid   taken  the  opposite  siile,  but 
as  yet  the  controversy  had  scarcely  reached 
Paulton;  yet   Bluster    shrewdly    guessed 
that   the  less    the  mass    of  his  auditor* 
knew  about  the  subject,  the  more  w(ml(* 
they  pretend   to  know  ;   and  as  their  owr 
tiesh  and  blood  were  to  speak,  thesubject 
matter  was  of  minor  eonsequence.   Accord- 
ingly, to  give  due  effect  to  the  extempora- 
ne.  rus  dispfiy.  Mr    Bluster  wrote  out  the 
opening  (ijweeh,  the  reply  and  the  rejoin- 
der,   and  carefully  drilled   his    pupils  in 
their  parts,  taking  all  t!ie  piiins  he  could 
to  divesft  their  orati  ms  of  every  appear- 
unc    of  premeditation. 

The  cyuiHful  ni^ht  arrived,  '  big  wilfc 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


the  fate  of  Wordswort-h  and  of  Bluster.' 
Riward  Turner  h-.iw  the  C'raigalliiii  cuach 
glidiiij:  up  to  the  door,  and  lie  needed  no 
lurtt.er  hint.  And  doffing  his  apn/u, 
he  unlocked  his  chest,  took  out  a  shiliiiij;, 
aud  HooB  was  in  a  liai-.k  seat,  and  was  re- 
Wiirded  for  hid  pains  ^yy  an  oeeasional 
glimpse  of  the  back  of  Sarah's  bonnet. — 
Tlie  reritationa-went  cm,  and  were  loudly 
appl.iuded  ;  ami  aft<-T  live  minutes  for  re- 
fribiiiut-nts  came  the  geiu  of  the  evening. 
A  large- uiouihed  ^'onth,  with  ;yellow  hiiir, 
stood  iMrih  and  declaimed  the  L;ike  Poet 
in  a  liign  st^le  of  nyik  rant  and  fusti.in, 
decliriiig  that  war,  and  what  lie  called 
the  dignified  virtues,  could  alone  l:>e  the 
subjects  of  true  poetr}'.  Edward  had  been 
reading  '  Uld  Christopher,'  and  knew 
B(jmetldng  of  the  subject ;  he  had  more 
than  once  debated  on  it  in  the  society  re- 
ferred to  by  Mr.  Ogle  ;  and,,  besides,  the 
natural  f/ent  ol'  his  taste  led  him  to  ap- 
preciate Wordsworth  ;  he  therefore  heard 
the  plaudits  bestowed  upon  his  punj  as- 
sailant with  iutinite  contempt. 

•  I  wonder,'  thought  he,  *  if  Sarah  feels 
in  this  matter  as  these  foolish  people 
dor 

Edwitrd,  however,  not  having   had  the 

!)resuuiption,  or  at)ility,  to  pay  two  sibl- 
ings, and  so  secure  a  reserved  seat,  could 
Qot  gt-t  his  curiosity  settlcHi  on  that  point, 
and  so  had  to  think  on.  At  last  Yellow- 
hair  hidshed,  and  it  fell  to  Mr.  Augustas 
Springfield,  younger  of  that  ilk,  to  i-eply. 
"Whether  it  was  the  eloquence  of  his  learn- 
ed brother,  the  heat  of  the  room,  the  vast 
auditory  in  general,  or  his  lather,  mother, 
grandmother,  aunt,  sisters,  and  cousins 
in  parti<!ular,  cannot  now  be  known  ;  but 
true  it  was  that,  near  the  end  of  Yelluw- 
hair's  speech-,  Augustus  first 

'  Turned  rfd  as  ony  roae, 
S>uo  wluib  as  ouy  h!y  !' 

and  at  last,  when  the  time  arrived  that, 
in  all  decency,  he  should  have  risen  and 
eonfronted  his  assailant,  Augustus,  des- 
pite of  a  perfumed  white  handUerchief, 
•water  and  smelling  salts,  r(»se  from  his 
geat,  but.  so  far  Irom  speaking,  took  the 
straightest  line  for  the  door,  and  vanished 
thereat,  leaving  his  relation  :ind  his  hat 
hehind  him.  It  was  a  great  pity,  ii.r  his 
raven  locks  had  ln-en  v\ell  curl.'d,  and  his 
collar  well  adjusted,  a  la  Byron,  for  the 
accat-ion.  Tins  heavy  blow  and  sore  dis- 
couragement threw  a  damper  over  eviry 
oii«  ;  and  the  show  wivs  about  to  come  to 
an  end,  wlien  Mr.  R^-joinder,  who  was 
being  bred  to  the  law,  perceived  that  his 
reversionary  rights  were  in  danger,  and 
h9  moved  ue^^urdingly. 


•  Please  to  observe,  Mr.  BluBter,'  said 
che  very  young  gentleman,  '  tint  7  am 
prepared  to  speak,  and  that  I  m»ist  Bpeak 
and  v\iH  s|  eak  for  reply  ;  otherwise,  how 
can  I  rejoin  V 

riej(iiiider"fl  mother  applauded  this  ad- 
dress «iih  her  Ian  agiinst  her  card  caKe, 
and  genteel  ajiplause  followed  the  di  licate 
^igna^  51r.  bluster  admitted  the  force  of 
thju  argumi-nt. 

'  But  where,'  asked  the  embarrassed 
lecturer,  '  can  a  substitute  be  got?  Fer- 
haj.g  some  of  the  audience  wili  be  dis- 
[posed  to  come  forward.' 

Ellison,  the  eccentric  naanager,  once 
asked  if  one  of  his  audience  would,  in  the 
unavoidable  al»sence  of  the  engaged  p'-rty, 
Come  forward  to  be  eaten  by.a  Bofien.ian 
artit*t  enguged  for  one  idght  oidy  ;  and, 
to  all  appear.tnce,  Mr.  Bluster  was  &» 
likely  to  receive  a  favorable  resjM)nse  a9 
Mr.  Eliisivn;  for^  on  the  spar  of  the  mo- 
ment, wly)  would  venture  to  seek  the 
bubble  reputation  at  the  cannon's  moutb 
of  such  an  august  audience  ?  But  sud- 
denly the  demon  of  ambition  entered  tFie 
udud  of  Edw.ird  Turner  ;  and  in  r*- ply  to 
Mr.  Blusters's  invitation,  and  alter  aa 
awful  suspen.se  of  five  mitmtes,  during 
which  time  there  was  silence  the  most 
pro-found,  he  stt'pped  forward  to  the  green 
cloth  table.  Morison  tittered  and  so  did 
ina?iy  others  ;  but  these  titters  saved 
Edward.  When  walking  along  the  door, 
the  p(H>r  feilow  felt  as  if  the  sound  of  hia 
own  footsteps  were  carrying  him  to  the 
scafli)ld  ;  the  snt  er,  however,  touched 
him  as  keenly  as  if  an  exposed  nerve  had 
l)een  eauteri^ed  with  hot  iron  ;  his  blood 
was  u|>,  and  he  had  a  bold  game  to  plaj. 

'Sarah  Graham  is  here,' thought  the 
aspiring  youth.  Let  me  stand  high  in  her 
opinion  now,  or  be  for  ever  east  down. — ■ 
ller  love  I  many  not  get,  but  I  shall  com- 
mand her  admiration  or  her  contempt.— 
1  care  not  one  straw  for  the  whole  s[>eo- 
tators — sfie  is  there  before  me  alone,  and 
I  see  nothing  and  regard  nothing  but  her. 
t  hazard  my  whole  case  on  this  one 
die. 

Mr.  Bluster  regarded  the  volunteer  with 
a  self-complaisant  leer,  and  smiled  a.-kaned 
at  his  patrons,  as  much  as  to  say,  '  Wo 
are  going  to  have  some  fun  here,  ladies 
aud  gi-ntlemen.     Listen,  listen '' 

Edward  commenced  in  a  uuxlest  yet 
firm  and  decided  tone.  He  stated  that 
hum. in  nature,  so  long  asit  coniinues  true 
to  its  finer  instincts,  w:i8  noble  in  ev<!rj 
aspect,  an<l,  as  such,  worthy  of  poetry. 
The  conventional  usag<  8  of  society  |)« 
flung  agide  as'dust  \\\  the  balance.  IJ« 
took  hia  stmd  on  the  floor  (>f  the  cottage 
ftod  would  uphold  the  poetry  ^o  be  fouo^ 


CRAmALLAN  CASTLE. 


there  as  equal,  If  not  superior,  to  what 
would  be  found  iti  the  drawing-rooui.  lie 
took  the  pt-.us.trit  from  his  g'lin^  fitrth  to 
lal>or  in  tht^iuoeiirte-hre;itliirig  luorii.dowa 
to  his  return  at  pariing  d  ly,  aud  showed 
How  {iregiiaat  with  poetry  were  the  an- 
nals of  toe  poor :  liow  their  uiuscul.ir 
health,  redident  of  life,  was  poetry  ;  liow 
the  honeysuckle  outside  their  O'lOins,  and 
the  white  ui^ss  roses,  preserved  in  winter, 
•within,  Were  poetry  ;  how  the  ringing 
laugh  of  their  ehililreu  hy  d  ly,  and  the 
Biuile  of  their  faces  iu  sleep,  was  poetry. 
Then  he  wt^nt  tm  to  show  that  war  c  luhi 
nover  dev»l.>pe  courage  dn  hum.iu  atiec- 
tion  ciuld,  iMid  recited  the  case  of  Molly 
Arthur  stooping  over  herdying  chill,  and 
then  pacing  tne  surl-hciUeu  shore  iu  her 
eag'  r  watching  lor  her  husband.  Lastly, 
he  told  the  audience  to  go  to  nature  for 
all  poetry — to  the  dowers,  the  stars,  the 
mountains,  the  glens,  the  woods,  the  riv- 
ers, aud  the  sea;  and  to  dwell  only  in  a 
secondary  w;iy  on  the  {)rowess  of  man, 
when  it  haii  dev  ist  ition  and  hli>  id  for  its 
pathway  and  huuiau  horrors  for  its  re- 
Ward. 

Slowly  did  the  audience  bend  to  the  in- 
fluences of  Edward's  oratory,  hut  at  list 
they  did  bend ;  his  touches  of  nature 
ma'le  them  all  akin,  and  at  last  they  in- 
terrupteil  hiui  hy  a  Ion  1  burst  of  ajiplause. 
Durittg  the  pause  affirded  hy  this  episode, 
Eld  ward  glanced  fir  the  first  time  at  rfa- 
rad,  and  saw  that  she  was  wrapt  in  ad- 
miratiim.  Emboldr-ncd,  he  struck  a  higlier 
strain,  and  went  on  in  splendid  style,  till 
a  new  tornado  of  approbation  again 
Stopped  him.  lie  loo  ed  again,  and  his 
triujuph  wa3  complete;  for  the  tears 
were  tricl  ling  down  the  cheeks  of  the 
mistress  id'  liis  soul.  It  Wiis  then  that  he 
looked  as  if  he  eoul  1  convey  an  expression 
of  the  pride  witn  which  he  regarded  her 
approval ;  the  blush  that  followed  showed 
that  the  arrow  had  pierced;  and  tliat 
blush  liad  m  ire  effect  in  par.ily>iiig  Ed- 
ward than  all  the  audience  had  done  b.^- 
fore.  lie  tiilt  he  owed  nothing  t<»  Mr. 
Bluster,  but  bowed  his  farewell  to  hnu, 
and  went  out,  scarcely  knowing  what  he 
did. 

Mr.  Rt-joinder  rose  to  address  the  house, 
but  was  received  with  manifest  im pa- 
tient^. 

*  The  p' rsou  who  spoke  last,'  said  tlie 
disappointed  or.itor,  '  exceeded  ids  time. 
1  have  more  respect  f  >r  the  audience,  nud 
therefore  Wiuve  my  privjl.ge.' 

More  ii[iplause  tollowed  this  announce' 
ment  than  any  speech  by  Mr.  Kejoinder 
Bould  have  elicited  ;  aud  so  the  iKnem- 
blage  djrpersed. 

*  Did  you  ever  aee  such  impudence  ae 


that  of  Turner's?'  asked  an  associate  (A 
William  Morison. 

'  Never  ;  he  is  the  moat  b  ire-faced 
pup[>y  I  know.  I  hate  him  as  1  do  tha 
devil  I' 

'  More,  perhaps!' 

'  You  are  ng  it.  Let  him  fall  into  my 
haiflls  a'^.d  he  will  find  that.' 

'  A  word  with  you,  sir,' said  a  stranger 
in  the  crowd. 

Morison  turned  ronivl. 

'  You  hate  that  youth  thoroughly — bit- 
terly ! ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  I  like  ycm  for  that !  Revenge  is  a 
noble  passion !  Come  with  me;  I  will 
show  ytm  how  to  wreak  your  vengeance 
wn  Turner  !      I  dislike  him  also.' 

Tneir  farther  conversation  must  occupj 
another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TUK    TEMPTEK. 

During  the  stormy  night  that  Edward 
saw  the  s  lilor  Arthur  anfl  his  companion 
gi)  off  in  his  Itoaf,  a  strangiu*  barque  was 
wrecked  near  the  spot.  This  w,u-»  no  un- 
common occurrence  on  the  exjio,-c<l  por- 
tion of  the  west  coiist  where  the  occur- 
rences of  our  history  took  pl.itw  ;  but  ;ts  a 
large  promontory  called  GilUby  Head  ran 
into  the  Sea  at  a  short  distance  to  the 
southward,  it  generally  hapfiened  that 
when  the  wind  olew  iidand,  vessels  were 
wrecked  there,  or,  if  they  esca|ped,  they 
were  then  comp;iratively  safe,  at  least  for 
the  next  hfty  u:iies  of  their  course.  I'lje 
stranger  ship  h  id  pissed  the  headland, 
and  yet  was  wrecksil  in  the  bay  adjacent ; 
which  caused  the  old  pilots  to  sha  e  their 
heads  at  the  inopacity  <*f  her  crew  in 
allowing  a  eat.istrophe  to  take  place  un- 
der such  circumstances.  Contrary  to  the 
usuil  custom,  tiie  owner  was  on  hoard  ; 
and  beint;  a  yttnng  man  of  prep  issessing 
appearance,  tie  met  witli  gener.d  sympa- 
thy from  the  inhabitants  of  Paultoit.  Lu- 
dovicko  having  contrived  to  gt-t  himself 
made  agent  for  Lloyds,  the  owner,  whose 
name  was  Wainright,  had  occ.tsion  to  call 
frequently  at  the  uiiice ;  aud  as  it  was  he 
who  iiccosted  Morison  at  the  dismissal  of 
the  .elocutionary  entertaimu'  nt,  the  par- 
ties could  not  altiigether  Itesiid  to  l>e  un- 
known to  each  other.  Waiiwigiit  led  the 
way  to  the  principal  inn,  and  ordered  sup- 
per ;  while,  in  tlie  interim,  he  unlolded 
his  views  to  his  young  acquaint. mce. 

'  Is  your  hatred  to  this  spouting  lad 
lively  to  be  permanent?'  asked  Wain- 
right. 

'  Yea.     Why  do  you  doubt  it?' 

'  Because  many   young  men   are    liki 


K 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


lovers  in  their  quarrels — quarrel,  make  it 
«Ip,  and  qjiiinel  :ij(:iiti.' 

'Mine  is  not  ottluit  kind.' 

'  You  never  Ibrgive,  I  siijiposc  V 
-^  Never!' 

'  I  like  that  ;  it  shows  firmness  of  pur- 
pone,  without  wliieh  no  enterprise  can 
SiMjCied.' 

'  Ityiu  '«ave  any  douhts  as  to  my  •wil- 
lingness lor  revenge,  show  me  how  I  ean 
manage  it,  and  tlieu  see  if  I  don't  carry  it 
iuto  ex«  cution  !' 

'  Sofi  ly  '  First  explain  to  me  how  and 
why  yon  hate  the  lad.' 

Alurisun  liung  down  his  head. 

'  Did  he  ever  cheat  you?' 

'  No.' 

'  Or  strike  you  ?* 

'No.' 

'  Speak  ill  of  you  V 

'  Ko  ;  none  of  these  kind  of  things.  Had 
he  done  anything  personal,  I  would  have 
struj'k  him  down  at  the  lime  !' 

'  Then  it  has  heen  a  love  afiFiir?  Ah, 
that  is  it,.'  I  see  you  change  color.  Am 
I  not  right?' 

'  Yes,'  answered  William,  embarrass- 
ed. 

'  If  it  is  love,  I  can  help  you  ;  but  tell 
me  the  whole  story,  and  how  he  has  sup- 
planted you.' 

'  1  cannot  tell  you  about  it  ;  it  looks 
foolish,  and  will  not  bear  telling.  You 
would  laugh  at  me  if  I  were  to  attempt 
exphmation.' 

'  Net  at  all,  my  good  friend.  At  your 
age  1  was  in  love  too  ;  but  that  was  ten 
years  ago,  and  I  have  got  over  that  sort 
of  thing  now.  Nevertheless,  I  know  the 
feeling.  It  is  a  disease  of  youth  ;  like 
hooj'ing-cough  or  measles,  nobody  escapes 
U.  S(.ime  old  fellows  may  "  iishaw"  (Si- 
laugh  as  they  like,  but,  married  or  un- 
married, all  had  to  pass  through  the  mire. 
Si>  tell  your  story  boldly.  You  labor  un- 
dtr  an  influence  which  has  nerved  men  of 
the  highest  renown  togreat  achievements. 
And  remember  I  am  a  stranger,  and 
know  mi' her  names  or  persons  ;  and  with 
Buch  a  confidant  it  is  like  speaking  in  the 
dark.' 

'  Well,  111  make  a  clean  breast  of  it. 
This  lad  and  I  are  foster-Hrothers ;  but, 
when  children,  lie  was  such  a  puling 
creature,  that  ev<n  his  mother  prelerred 
me  to  him.  My  uncle,  when  he  brought 
me  here,  apprenticed  him  to  a  drugiiist  ; 
and,  as  he  was  always  engaged  in  lighting 
fires,  swei  ping  floors,  and  carrying  medi- 
cine, I  CUE  hiin.  Fit  some  time  hack  I 
have  been  trying  to  attract  the  notice  of 
a  voung  lady  above  my  own  rank,  and, 
of'  course,  immeasuralily  above  his.  1 
have  met  her  at  charity    balls,  and  such 


like,  hut  never  could  get  her  fo  speak  i4 
me  ;  wldlst  this  creature,  whose  presuiup- 
til  n  knows  rio  hounds,  has  contrived  to 
get  her  ear  hy  gathering  flowers,  or  suclj 
nonsense  ;  and,  altliough  her  ]iareDtv 
have  forbidden  meetings  h(twt;en  them, 
yrt  hi  r  I  redileetion  i.s  evidently  unabated, 
as  to-night  hlje  seemed  entranced  during 
the  time,  he  was  raniing  ' 
'  What  is  tie  lady's  nar/ie  V 
'  Miss  Graham  of  Craig^.ll.m.' 
'What!  the  heiress  of  the  old  castle 
near  to  where  we  were  wrecUed  ?  Young 
man,  'you  aim  at  fiigh  game  ;  but,  fill 
your  gliss,  I  like  jou  all  the  better  for 
your  ambition.' 

*  You  said  that  you  also  hated  Turner. 
Will  you  ex[iLin  tome  wliy  you  do  so?' 

'  Certainly.  lie  belongs  to  the  school 
that  cries  up  toasted  cheese  and  virtue  ; 
and  as  I  belong  to  the  antagonistic  eya- 
tem  of  silver  forks  and  Sneese.  1  naturally 
aliominate  him  and  all  his  tribe.' 

'  Will  you  explain  your  explanations,  il 
you  please  ]' 

'  by  and  by.  Meanwhile,  listen.  You 
hate  a  lad  that  is  worth  kicking,  but 
scarcely  worth  hating,  as  I  inter)  ret  the 
word.  You  also  love  a  girl  who  is  w  'rih 
having.  What  are  your  plans  for  obtain- 
ing her  ?' 

'  1  have  none. 

'  A  good  engineer,  truly  I  Wly,  yoa 
are  green  !  You  must  la>  down  a  given 
plan,  if  you  are  in  earnest,  and  work  at 
it  night  and  day  until  you  accomplish  it. 
Have  you  any  money,  or  j)rospect  ai' 
money  ^' 

'  At  present  I  have  ten  pounds  a  year  : 
when  my  apprenticeship  expires  I  may 
get  forty  or  filty  ;  and  that  is  all  my  pros- 
pjcts.  My  father,  I  believe,  w«s  rich  at 
one  time  ;  but  he  was  married  secretly, 
lost  his  money,  and  I  have  long  been  de- 
peixlant  on  my  uncle.' 

'  Well,  if  forty  or  fifty  pounds  be  all 
your  prospects,  you  may  as  well  look  at 
the  moon  a^  at  Miss  Graham.' 

'  I  fear  it." 
• '  Fear  it — there  is  no  doubt  about  it  ! 
You  must  get  money  ;  and  I  will  put  you 
on  a  way  of  getting  it.' 

'  Do  that  and  i  shall  be  beholden  to 
you  for  life.' 

'  Nay,  not  so  fast.  I  shall  be  content 
if  you  do  my  behests  during  the  few 
weeks  I  am  at  Paulton.' 

'  Command  me.' 

'Nay,  again,  })e  not  pricipitate.  Fill 
up  your  glans,  and  let  me  explain  a  little. 
You  tave  not  been  v<  ry  long  in  the  world, 
Mr  Morison,  but  you  have  Jflready  dis- 
covered that  it  is  against  you.  It  if 
against  most  aspirants,  because  the  high 


CRAIGALLAN  C.iSTLE. 


57 


born  have  nothing  to  contend  for ;  you 
must,  thereture,  uoutend  with  the  world, 
and  beat  l)uck  its  waves  till  jou  furct; 
your  way  tfiruugii  them.  Uiie  thing,  <uid 
one  alone,  ruks  the  world,  and  that  is 
money.  It  unhtcks  the  l)o8oiua  ol  uiiiiileiis, 
uoiutuanUg  pltasure,  eouitovt,  iiiid  aervil- 
ity,  cre-itts  power,  and  opt;ri8  up  high- 
ways cf  reviiigo.  With  it  man  is  ouiiii- 
polodt,  wiihout  it  ci'iitempiibi^  All  the 
woil.l  oonleii>Js  lor  money.  Koi)heis  t.i  e 
it  directly  h^  niiht,  other  men  inoireclly 
by  day  ;  but  it  all  comes  to  the  siiu-- 
thing.  The  priests  Irighteu  you  about 
the  unseen  worl<l,  an<i  laKe  your  in  >ney 
ail  the  time  ,  toe  doctor  territies  you  vkiiii 
disf-aaes,  ami  does  the  same;  aud  the 
ldvvy>;r,  as  you  koowv,  lives  by  Iraud  an<i 
chicanery.  I'lie  honest  fools,  like  luriier, 
Btaud  siill,  and  st.irve  ;  the  timid  cheats 
O  on  Klowly,  ami  re.dise  slowly.  I  woul  1 
h;vve  yi)u  to  strike  (nit  b.)ltily,  and  win 
largely;  oidy  Oet'ore  you  can  do  so,  ym 
must  throw  df  tlie  notions  y  lu  picked  up 
when  holding  }our  mothers  apron- 
Btrings  ' 

'  I  <lo  not  understand  yon." 

'  lii-  pati-nt,  and  I  will — no  ;  han^  it  I 
how  do  I  know  llnit  i  am  safe  in  talhing 
to  \ou  ? 

'I  have  told  you  my  secret,  why  not 
tell  me  yours  '" 

*  liih  !  a  child's  story  about  calf-love  ! 
Who  would  care  f  r  he.iring  it  I' 

'  Well,  kee[»  your  counsel  to  yourself.' 
'  lley-d  ly  !  wh  it  a  black  face  you  put 
OB  !  And  you  are  lor  g  'ing  away,  are 
you?  Nay,  sit  still — 1  ^mII  nave  you  to 
do  so  till  I  tiuish  my  lecture  on  mural 
philo8"phy.' 

•  Well  then,  go  the  whole  animal,  and 
trust  me.' 

'  You  shall  see.  Fill  again.  Now. 
that  is  t  issed  off  like  a  man.  But  to  re- 
fume  the  ethics.  The  priests  make  tbu 
laws  of  religion,  the  lawyers  make  thi>se 
of  A -ts  of  I'ailiament,  and  sentimentalists 
make  laws  of  honor.  Why  sliould  you  or 
I,  in  respect  of  our  opinions,  be  subjet  to 
any  of  their  laws  '' 

'  Because  we  might  be  hanged  or  traa- 
■ported  if  we  disooeyed  them.' 

'  There  you  confound  two  things  essen- 
tially diffrent.  I  spoke  of  opinions,  yon 
refer  to  condtict.  I  wish  to  Ixlieve  my 
own  laws,  i>ut.  in  consideration  of  human 
inHriiiity.  I  require  to  appear  to  believ 
and  keep  Imman  laws  ;  iiut  only  appe.'ir, 
for  I  wish  to  break  them  secretly.  Such 
men  as  i'urner  oliijy  all  kinds  of  commnid- 
Hientij ;  fniatics  ob'-y  religionsaudleg.il 
— your  uncle  leg d  only.  I  wish  to  \^u-\<. 
the  ^>eam  altoj;etlier,  and  disol'cy  legal 
too ;  bus  in  respect,  luark  you,  to  human 


I  vindictivenesa,  which  is  intolerant  of  lib  • 
I  erty  in  such  matter.s,  1  would  tlo  all  viola- 
tion sub  rosa.      Do    you  underftand  me  V 
'       •  I  think  I  do.      I  say,  can   you   keep  a 
'secret?      1  don't  think  I  should  tell   it  to 

i  you,  but  the  wine   makes    me    comiuuni- 

I        ■       . 

C  itiVO 

'  There's  my  hand.' 

'  Well,  I  took  tliree sovereigns  out  of  my 
unci -s  drawt  r  yesterd.iy.' 

'  lla,  h  I.  ha  !  That  is  Greek  meeting 
(Jre- k  ;  hut  it  is  nothing  to  wh  it  1  have 
done  lately.  Swear  by  all  that  jou  hold 
sacred  that  you  divulge  n  't,  and  [  will 
tell  you  a  bettor  joke  than  that.' 

'  I  11  swear  none  f  have  trusted  you, 
and  you  should  trust  ;ne.' 

'  You  are  right.  -  AV^ell,  then,  when  I 
Hailed  with  Copper  IS.  the  lu  ister  of  the 
barqu",  he  preten  i^'d  to  st  irt  for  the  co- 

lloni'S;  and  he  fi  leil  the  sliiji  with  datn- 
aged  go  ids,  the  ifrivvback  oti  wfiieh  was 
gient'-r,   by  a  lar^e  sum,  than   tlie  price. 

;  He, insured  ship  and  cargo  above  their  va- 

I  lue,  tossed  the  goods  overlio.ird,  ind  ran 
the  slop  asliore,  aud  then  pocket.<-d  the  dil- 

I  fereiiee  between  dnwh.iek  and  price,  aud 

i  iri>urance  over  and  above.  Is  not  that 
doiii;^  business'' 

I       'If  Ludovieko  knew  that — ' 

j       '  lie  never  will.' 

!  '  The  people  here  have  talked  a  gt)od 
deal  aI)out  the  Strangeness  of  your  being 
wrecked  in  the  ba.v.' 

'  I  gamuMned  them  all  over  abi^t  the 
chart  lieing  wrong,  and  (!op[)eras  not 
well,  and  so  forth.  Depend  up  )n  it  no- 
body has  any  suspicions.' 

'  And  how  could  you  contrive  such  a 
thing  ?' 

'  I  did  not  contrive  it,  but  Copperas 
did.' 

'  Then  you  will  allow  him  sometiiing 
handsoiu"  as  bush-money'' 

'No;  he  allows  me.  The  tiuth  is,  I 
ajn  not  the  owner,  but  Coppersia  ,  and  as 
he  wants  education,  I  consented  to  play 
the  owner.  When  I  get  the  matter  set- 
tled, I  uiean  to  do  a  small  piece  of  busi- 
ness on  my  own  account,  and  shall  proba* 
ly  require  your  assistatice.' 

'  You  shall  hive  it;  but  I  must  go 
now,  or  my  uncle  may  miss  me.  Good 
iiijjiit.' 

'  Stop,  I  will  go  up  the  strpet  with  you. 
There  are  no  night-watchmen  in  the  town, 
I  Ivliever 

'None.' 

'*\  very  curious  circumstanc^c  in  such  a 
liyge  pi  ice.' 

The  two  friends  walked  together  till 
tliey  (uime  to  Ludovieko  s  house,  and  then 
parted  for  the  night.  On  trying  to  enter, 
M.'risou  found  the  door  was  locked.     H* 


M 


CRAKJALLAN  CASTLE. 


tapped  i^t  the  kitchen-window,  in  the  ex- 
pectation that  the  servant  woulJ,  as  on 
previiius  (»uca!<iitns,  admit  hiui  without 
distui'iing  hin  unch-  ;  Imt  no  nsp-'imf 
■was  HiaiU-  to  this  a|i|rlicaLiun,  and  lie  had 
at  lai>t  to  knnc-k  loudly. 
"  Lud.pvic  o  caiue  to  the  door  himself, 
fuilv  drtbf^fd. 

'"Wiili.iiu.  }ou  are  late,' said  he.  '1 
wanteii  ^ou  lo  write  to-night.' 

'  I  went  to  tlie  elocution,"  replied  the 
nephew,  sulkily. 

'  You  have  not  been  there  all  this 
time.' 

'  No ;  I  took  a  walk  afterwards  with 
Rankin.' 

*  Vou  could  not  do  that,  for  I  find  that 
he  Wiwi  in  that  woman  Endliy's  since 
nine  ;  liut  you  were  not  there — where 
Were  you  V 

'  I  was  at  the  "  Ea2;le."  ' 

'  How  could  you  iiff)rd  to  go  there  V 

'  I  paid  nothing — 1  was  treated.' 

'  Kv  whom  '" 

'  Mr.  Waiiwight.' 

'  And  you  spoke  to  him  about  business 
matters  1' 

'  I  dill  not.' 

'  You  did  ;  otJierwise  how  did  you  tell 
a  lie'  Have  I  not  warned  you  against 
carrying  lliini;s  out  of  theOffice  ?  I  have 
no  douht  he  has  been  asking  you  about 
the  ships'  ace  mi  its,  and  you  have  been 
Billy  enough  to  tell  him.  I  took  you  in 
fr  )m  charity,  V\  illiam,  and  you  have  not 
turned  out  what  I  expecteii.  Y(m  keep 
late  hours,  and,  I  fear,  bad  company  ; 
even  n.>w  your  face  is  swollen  with  ii.toxi- 
Cation — at  the  very  door  1  felt  the  smell 
of  wine  upon  you  !  For  your  mother's 
Bake  I  have  borne  with  you  ;  but  patience 
has  its  limits,  and  unless  you  change  com- 
pletely, 1  shall  be  ol>liged  to  dismiss  you 
at  the  end  of  your  apprenticeship.  1  shall, 
if  possible,  keep  you  till  then,  as,  if  you 
Berve  your  tiuie,  you  may  get  some  (tthei 
situation,  and  Viehave  t)etttTwith  a  stran- 
tjer  thtin  with  me  ;  but  tliis,  too,  is  cim- 
clitioiiid  on  your  immediate  change  of  ha- 
bit. There  is  that  lad  Turner  ;  he  ought 
to  be  ii.  pattt  rn  to  you.  His  master  and 
everyboily  speaks  well  of  him.  Mr.  Win- 
ter, the  school-master,  tells  me  tliat  he  w 
an  excelliiit  bitin  scliolir,  while  you  can 
hardly  master  the  cououonest  quotation. 
But  }<o  to  bed,  I  am  afraid  ynu  are  too 
stupi'l  to  understand  me  ;  I  will  speak  to 
you  Mgiin  in  the  moining.' 

Mori.-on  stitg>iered  upstairs  to  bed. 
BKeering  l)itt.erly  at  the  iilea  of  his  uftcle 
lecturing  tiim  on  propriety.  And,  logi(^al- 
ly,  he  was  ri^ht ;  for,  O  Ludovicko  !  Lu- 
liovicko!  bow  could  you  presume  to  cut 
Mad  carve  on  the  Decalogue,  and  not  al- 


low your  nephew  a  similar  filierty  *  .AO 
the  time  he  has  been  with  you  he  haf 
Seen  nothing  Imt  thvi  dry-boues  of  legal 
ai'ir.dity — no  generosity,  no  honor,  no 
iiighminded  di.>intereflte.line^s  ;  and  yet 
sowiiii;  such  seed  you  exjicet  a  moral  liar- 
\estl  II  young  men  go  wrong  with  the 
ht  St  training,  how  can  tliey  do  well  with 
the  worst !  The  hre  that  burns  the  green 
leaves  will  assuredly  HiZe  amojig,«t  the 
'!rv.  The  bt)dy  that  is  onee  piaeed  on  an 
inclined  plane  will  not  relax  in  its  down- 
wanl  c  mrse  at  the  mere  I  adding  of  him 
who  fir^t  put  it  there,  p.  ihaps  with  the 
intention  that  it  should  onK  proceed  a 
snort  way  ;  each  inch  traversed  will  ga- 
thi  r  fresh  momentum,  till,  rolling  down 
v<ith  the  speed  ot  liglitidi'g,  it  will  plunge 
into  the  dark  and  hottomki.->  waters  be- 
li>vv,  and  be  lost  tbrever. 

Wainrinht,  on  leaving  M orison,  went 
further  up  the  street,  and  tr.ivt  i>ed  the 
to\Miin  ditferent  directions,  lb-  anxious- 
ly scrutniised  diff  r>-nt  public  Imdoings  ; 
where  back  entrances  were  open  he  went 
in  ;  he  crept  alon^  the  shadows  of  the 
walls,  and  otherwise  (uiiou.-ly  examined 
the  geojiraphy  of  the  town,  lu  dark 
places  he  used  a  small  lantern,  which 
v\itliout  j'iving  very  jireat  li>;ht,  it  en- 
ahled  him  to  thread  his  way  tiiiough  in- 
trirate  p  iss  iges.  He  had  just  used  his 
li^ht  on  entering  a  narrow  ally,  Imt  hear- 
iog  a  slight  noise,  he  dosed  it,  and  next 
moment  received  a  violent  blow  on  the 
he.id.  lie  noiselessly  ran  out  into  the 
street,  and  went  home  to  the  inn  hjf  a 
circular  route. 


CHAPTER  XVir. 

THE  LORD  OF  CUAtG.\LLAN  IN  HIS  PRIDE. 

The  popularity  of  Edward  alarmed  An- 
thonv  Fit /.gibbon  ;  be  had  no  ol>jection  to 
hear  aUait  his  own  renown,  but  so  much 
talk  ab(ait  his  apprenti\3e  alarmed  him 
greatly. 

'  1  will  speak  to  him  to-night,  my  dear,' 
said  Anthony  to  his  wile  ;  '  1  will  have 
no  more  curing  of  doga  or  children,  or 
making  of  speeches.' 

'  It  ou>i;ht  to  have  been  stopped  long 
;igo.  if  you  had  any  sense,'  was  the  mild 
reply  of  the  lady. 

•  I  never  do  anything  in  a  hurry,  my 
love  ;  but  when  I  am  roused,  I  think  you 
know  th.it  I  am  not  easilv  put  di  wn.' 

'/know.  Dr.  Fitz^ibbori  ?  Whatdc 
you  mean'  Do  you  snpp'ise  yourself  ca- 
pable of  controlling  me  ^  Jemima,  take 
your  lingers  from  your  mouth  immedi- 
ately.' 


CRAIGxV.LLAN  CASTLE. 


This  objurgation  being  addressed  to  the 
phjysioian  a  favorite  daughter  witli  great 
ttsueni^,  it  Was  tvi'ieiit  itiat  a  storm  was 
rising;  and,  pleading  the  uoeessity  of 
calling  uii  iMrs  Hii^fcs  to  see  what  sort  of 
a  iiigit  slie  had  p  isdL'd,  Aiiliiuiiy  witli- 
drew.  in  the  evcnuig  Edward  was  sum- 
moiiod  to  a  cvnilirr-'iiec  in   the  p. trior. 

'  Sit  liowu,  Lldwurd,  Said  Anthony  with 
great  dignity ;  '  1  wish  to  speak  witii 
you.' 

AhfT  two  or  three  preliminary  coughs, 
and  sevtTal  hxiks  at  his  wite,  as  if  to  at- 
tract her  attention  from  her  knitting  to 
his  oration,  Autliouy  commenced  his  ad- 
dress. 

'  Edward  (iiem),  I  am  rather  p:iiiied 
(hem/at  the  muse  you  ma  e  in  tlie  pub- 
lic mmith  (nem)  iou  know  that  my 
dispensary  has  .liways  been  f.iuied  for  its 
acciirac_y,  in  resj'cct  not  only  to  the  pre- 
Bcnbing  hut  to  iiie  making  up  of  mcdi- 
cinis;  but  1  am  afraid  in  reg  ird  to  tlie 
latter  quaiiiicatiun  it  must  lose  its  clia- 
racter.' 

'  lias  any  one  been  complaining?'  asked 
Edward. 

•  iSo,  not  exactly  complaining,  Edward, 
but  sfteaking;  and  as  it  is  my  duty  to 
Watch  prcmunitory  s^mpti^ms,  I  think  it 
right  to  lull  you  that  i  wid  permit  no 
am.iteur  practising  nor  public  speaking  iu 
any  person  under  my  charge.' 

'  You  ahall  be  troubled  no  more  on  my 
account.' 

'  \V\11,  I  am  glad  you  promise  amend- 
ment So  promptly  ;  but,  considering  my 
position  and  ^ours,  Edward,  you  might 
have  signified  your  regret  iu  a  more  peni- 
tent tone.' 

'  As  I  am  not  conscious  of  having  done 
any  wrong,  I  cannot  profess  regret.' 

'  It  is  enough  if  your  master  thiuMs  so.' 

*  1  do  not  intend  that  you  should  con- 
tinue my  master  much  longer,  so  that 
there  need  be  no  controversy  on  that 
score.' 

'  Eviwani  !'  said  Anthony. 

'  Impudence!'  said  his  wife. 

'  You  forget,  young  man,  resumed  An- 
thony, shaking  his  seals,  wliich  he  al- 
ways did  when  agitated,  '  that  you  are  ms 
apprenti  e,  and  if  you  abscond  1  shall  en- 
force the  penalty.' 

'  I  was  never  hound.' 

'  fha  ,  indeed,  rejoined  the  master,  in 
evident  embariMssment ;  'but  it  was  un- 
derstood. I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to 
i:>|  eak  to  Mr.  Grant  about  iiim,  my  dear  " 

'  lie  11  soon  bring  hi.ii  to  his  senses, 
Bftid  the  lady.' 

'  Mr.  Grant  told  iiie  that  y  'U  were  to 
be  my  apprentice  ;  and  I  never  take  one 
fgr  l^fs  tbiiQ  live  years.' 


'  Then  you  have  no  claim  on  me,  for  1 
have  been  with  you  nearly  six  ye. its.' 

*  Boy,  you  have  not  been  v\icf.  me  HmT  ' 
years.' 

'  1  can  assure  you,  sir,  I  have  been 
here  nearly  six  years  I  came  at  the 
same  time  that  Morison  went  t.)  Mr. 
Grant's;  be  w,is  b'und  six  years,  and  [ 
know  tliat  his  apprenticeship  is  within  a 
few  months  of  being  I  mt,' 

•  I  tell  you,  sir,  you  are  tall<ing  non- 
sense.' 

'  L-t  me  see,'  said  the  lidy,  putting  her 
nail  on  her  lip,  and  looking  mathematic  d- 
ly  ;  *  Edward  is  light,  lie  was  here  be- 
f  ire  Tommy  was  born,  and  the  ilear  lamb 
will  be  six  at  Clnistnias.  Frederick 
liiur,  Johnny  two.  Yes — Tommy  six; 
there  is  no  dmibt  about  it.  Don't  you 
remember! — we  were  at  Mr.  iliyes's, 
brfire  r>mimy  was  born,  playing  whist — 
you  were  lor  going  away  fir  fear  that 
someb  idy  might  want  y<m.  1  asked  ycu 
to  remain,  and  s.iid,  that  as  we  ba<l  got  a 
new  boy  he  would  come  ami  tell  when 
you  were  asked  f  )r.  Mrs.  II  lyes  did  not 
care  about  us  remaining;  but  I  was  re- 
soiveil,  .18  she  had  kept  us  up  so  late, 
that  she  sliouid  give  us  our  8>ip[.er.' 

'  Mrs.  Fitzgibbim,  yoi  are  intrusive, 
and  your  memory  is  often  ready  where 
there  is  no  occasion  ;'  at  which  remark 
Mrs.  Fitzgibbon  bustleil  up,  dashed  her 
knitting  on  the  table,  went  to  the  fire, 
put  her  feet  on  the  fender  and  her  back 
to  hir  loiil. 

'  Where  are  you  going,  Edward  ?' 

'  To  college.' 

'  And  you  intend  coming  baek  here  tc 
practise,  I  warr.ant.  But  rem'  mber,  sir 
that  no  education  can  give  you  my  expe- 
rience ;  and  so  beware  of  inviting  com- 
parisoa. 

'  1  have  no  intention  of  inviting  com- 
pr.rison,  or  of  troubling  you  in  any  way^ 
as  I  have  made  up  my  mind  not  to  come 
back  here,  at  least  fir  many  ye.irs." 

'  Well,  Edward,  if  we  are  to  part,  let 
us  [lart  as  friends.  I  have  never  allowed 
you  much  money,  as  empty  pockets  are 
not  l)ad  appendages  to  youth  ;  but  when 
you  go  away,  I  shall  make  you  a  small 
present ;  it  will  iielp  to  pay  fees.' 

'1  am  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,'  re- 
plied Edwari,  '  but  a  gentleman  in  St. 
David  s,  a  friend  of  Mr.  ilayes,  is  to  as- 
sist me.' 

'  \Y"hat  do  you  say,  Edward? — did  you 
s.iy  .1  friend  of  Mr.  liayes?' 

'  Yes.' 

'  My  dear  sir,  why  did  you  not  mention 
this  l>ef(re?  I  am  sure  if  I  h.id  known 
that  any  fiiend  .if  Mr.  Hayes  had  been 
interesting  himself  about  you,  I  ihottld 


60 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


have  done  the  same  myself — would  I  uot, 
my  dear?' 

But  Mrs.  Fitzgibbon  was  in  thedniiips; 
her  I'ainily  cliroiiolotxy  Iiud  been  sneered 
at,  and,  beini^  a  woman,  tlie  offence  was 
mortal.  Edward,  regarding  the  biiMiiess 
as  settled,  withdrew;  and  tiie  ])air  were 
left  alone.  Antliony  revolved  the  coni- 
mnnications  of  tlie  evening  in  his  mind, 
and  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  occa- 
sionally looking  at  the  ceiling,  and  never 
letting  go  his  seals. 

'  My  dear,'  said  Anthony,  after  a  long 
pause. 

'What!' 

'I  am  going  to  dine  with  the  Agricul- 
tural Society  to-morrow;  can  you  let 
me  liave  my  white  waistcoat  and  stock  ?' 

'Oh,  of  course.' 

Tiie  ice  being  broken,  Anthony  gave 
vent  to  his  emotions. 

'  This  business  vexes  me,  my  dear.  Had 
I  known  that  the  lad  had  been  so  long 
with  me,  I  would  have  allowed  him  to 
practice  among  the  commonality,  and 
halved  the  proceeds  with  him.  Taken  in 
sutlicient  quantity,  the  shillings  of  the 
poor  mount  up.  Besides,  if  he  turn  out 
a  genius,  1  shall  have  no  credit  by  him. 
I  never  gave  him  any  instructit)n — he 
has  picked  it  all  up  liimselt'.  Tiiere  was 
Humphrey  Davy;  now  he  went  on  in 
that  .st)rt  of  way,  and  turned  out  a  great 
gun,  tliough  he  did  no  good  to  medicine. 
What  do  you  think,  my  dear?' 

'I  think  it  is  all  stulf  and  nonsense. 
The  laTl's  good  enough,  but  there  is  as 
good  tish  in  tlie  sea  as  ever  came  out  of 
it,  and  as  to  being  a  gei.ius,  he  runs  from 
tlis  girls;  and  when  did  any  of  your 
philosopher  people  do  that?' 

'  You  are  right,  my  h)ve,  as  you  gene- 
rally are;  Humphrey  was  a  beau  among 
tlie  ladies.  I  remember,  when  I  was  at 
college — ' 

'xiud  I  remember  when  I  rose  this 
moi  ning.' 

And  seizing  a  candle,  Mrs.  Fitzgihl)on 
marclied  off  to  bed,  Anthony's  reminis- 
cences of  University  life,  which  ])robahly 
she  hiul  lieard  a  hundred  times  before, 
being  rudely  nipped  in  tlie  blossom. 

Anthony  announced  his  intention  of 
going  to  an  agricultural  dinner;  but  we 
have  something  more  to  say  in  reference 
to  iliat  festival.  The  society  had  just 
been  formed.  Instead  of  being  lost  in  tlie 
county  institution,  Paulton  parish  resolv- 
ed tiiat  it-'liould  have  a  rural  board  ot  its 
own ;  and,  after  great  delilieration  on  the 
part  of  the  provisional  committee,  it  was 
resolved  that  Mr.  John  (Iraliam  as  the 
principal  proprietor,  sliould  be  chairman, 
and  Mr.  Ludovicko  Grunt,  as  the  sharpest 


legal  practitioner,  .should  be  secretary ; 
with  the  other  otlicers  we  have  nothing  to 
do.  On  pajier  the  thing  looked  well,  and 
the  provincial  committee  congratulated 
themselves  on  their  arrangement;  but, 
alas!  the  arrangements  of  men  and  ])ro- 
vincial  committees  are,  like  every  thing 
else,  subject  to  sublunary  vicissitud.-s,  aa 
will  be  seen.  The  secretaryship  being  the 
most  onerous  office,  they  thought  it  best 
to  secure  Ludovicko  tirst.  He  pleaded 
want  of  time;  but,  on  being  assured  ol 
the  fullest  co-operation  ofthe  committee, 
he  consented,  mentally  resolving  to 
throw  the  drudgeiy  on  Kankin,  and  keep 
the  credit  to  himself. 

The  committee  next  divided  hi  to  sec- 
tions of  three — one  i)arty  hiring  a  hack- 
ney coach  to  go  out  to  Craigallan.  the 
other  going  on  foot  to  the  gentleman 
who  was  to  be  victimised  iis  treasurer. 
As  the  avenue  gate  was  thrown  o]jen, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graham  were  to  be  seen 
seated  at  the  window. 

'  Who  is  this,  Mrs.  Graham?'  said  our 
old  friend  John. 

'  Some  of  these  town  people  in  a  hired 
ve'  licle.  Dear  me '  it  is  that  vulgar  yel- 
low thing,witli  tilt-  broken-winded  horses 
and  hump-backed  driver.  I  wonder  they 
don't  subscribe  among  themselves,  and 
get,  at  least,  a  decent  hackney,  i  hojie 
that  none  of  our  country  friends  will  be 
calling  with  their  fine  equipages  during 
the  time  that  the  fright  will  be  at  the 
door.' 

The  'fright'  drove  up,  and  the  depu- 
tution  entered ;  and,  on  obtaining  an 
audience  of  the  lord  of  Craigallan,  ex- 
plained their  object. 

'Anything  that  is  for  the  good  ofthe 
parish,'  sai<l  the  great  man,  'shall  have 
my  cordial  sujiport.  I  am  most  eager 
to  advance  agricidture,  and  shall  liave 
much  pleasure  in  becoming  president  ol 
the  society.  I  quite  agree  with  you, 
gentlemen,  that  it  is  high  time  for  Paul- 
ton  to  have  an  agricultural  association 
of  its  own.  Will  you  be  pleased  gentle- 
men to  lunch  with  us?' 

The  provincial  committee  bowed  ac- 
quiescence, and  a  sumptuous  luncheon 
was  laid  out  in  the  ailjoining  ap.-irt- 
ment. 

'  Of  course,  gentlemen,'  said  the  presi- 
dent elect,  sipjiing  his  wine,  you  will  not 
liiy  too  much  business  on  me,  asi  prefer 
living  here  mo.it  of  my  time  quietly,  and 
canntit  go  through  bustle.' 

'As  to  t.j-at,  Mr.  Graham,'  said  the 
provi.Monal  speaker,  'we  have  completely 
anticipated  your  wishes;  tliat  excellent 
business  man,  Mr.  Ludovicko  Grant,  is 
to  be  our  secretary.' 


CRAIG ALLAX  CASTLE. 


61 


Mr.  Graliam  put  down  liis  glass  of 
fine  old  crusted  port  as  if  it  had  been 
vinegar. 

•(Jeiitlemen,'  said  he,  with  dignity, 
'this  is  not  fair;  3'oiJ  ought  to  have  ac- 
quainted ine  with  tlie  names  of  the  par- 
ties who  were  to  be  my  brother  olheers. 
I  beg  yon  will  seek  another  chairman, 
for  I  eannot  be  associated  in  tlie  direc- 
tion of  any  body  wl«)m  I  cannot  ask  to 
the  castle  as  my  guests.  My  brother, 
ynu  may  recollect,  w.is  unmarried.  I 
have  botli  a  wife  and  daui^iter,  and 
inn-^1  lie  select  in  my  society.' 

Mrs.  'iraham  tossed  her  head,  as  if  iu 
ap|)roval  of  this  Itoman  firmness. 

'  l>ut,  Mr.  Graham,' said  the  spokes- 
man, 'Mr.  Grant  is  a  rising  man.  He  is 
getting  all  the  country  bu-iness,  and,  1 
can  assure  you,  although  shar]»  as  a  jiro- 
fessional  man,  is  getting  higher  in  public 
estimation  every  day.' 

'  I  cl.'oose  my  coii.jjanj',  Mr.  Wixon — 
you  can  choose  your  cliairman.' 

'  Certainly,  sir.  But  mark  our  pain- 
ful ])osiuon.  We  called  on  Mr.  (Jrant 
on  our  way  out ;  we  otfered,  and  he  ac- 
cejited  the  ollice;  we  are  committed  to 
liim.     Do,  pray,  consider  our  position.' 

'I  did  not  create  your  position,  Mr. 
"Wixon.' 

Ail  certainty  was  in  vain  ;  and  so  Mr. 
Wixon  and  his  friends  had  to  leave,  on 
the  understanding  that  they  were  to  call 
on  Ijndovi(;ko,  and  endeavor  to  get  him 
to  witlidraW  from  tiie  secretaryship; 
and  if  they  succeeded  in  tliat,  Mr.  Wixon 
was  himself  to  assume  the  olHce ;  and 
tlien  the  way  was  smoothed  for  Mr.  Gra- 
liam taking  the  supreme  command.  How 
the  deputation  was  to  face  Ludovieko 
they  Could  not  for  the  world  understand; 
'and  after  each  endeavoring  to  throw  the 
onus  oi  explanation  on  the  other  the  whole 
three  were usiiered  into  Ludovicko's  back 
room,  without  any  arrangement  being 
made  as  to  who  would  bell  the  cat. 

'  Well,  gentlemen,'  said  Ludovieko. 

A  pause. 

'What  are  your  commands,  gentlemen?' 

'A  shame!'  said  No.  1. 

'  A  disgrace!'  said  No.  2. 

'1  never  heard  the  like  of  itl'  said 
No.  3. 

'  Your  are  as  good  as  him,  Mr.  Grant.' 

'  I  letter,  I  saiy.' 

'  r>ut  what  are  we  to  do  ?' 

'  lliat\s  it!' 

'  He  won't  act  as  cliairinan,  you  see.' 

'  lioth  we  can't  get.' 

'Tiierefore  one  we  nnist  want.' 

'  ralience,  gentlemen.  If  I  understand 
von  alight,  Mr.  Graham  objects  to  my 
being  secretary.'     - 


The  provisional  nodded. 

'  And  will  not  act  as  chairman  unlesa 
I  resign." 

Another  nod. 

'  Well,  gentlemen,  give  yourselves  no 
concern  aliout  that.     I  will  resign.' 

'  You  are  a  gentleman  in  reality,'  said 
No.  1. 

'You  have  saved  the  society,'  said 
No.  2. 

'  We  will  never  forget  it,'  said  No.  3. 

'The  truth  is,  gentlemen,  before  Mr. 
Graham  got  his  windfall,  I  was  obliged 
tt)  use  diligence  agjiinst  him.  I  acted 
j)rof'essionally ;  but  it  is  a  misfortune  iu 
(Uir  business  that  we  are  otten  supposed 
to  act  from  personal  motives.  That  is 
his  mistake.  I  can  make  allowance  for 
it,  both  as  a  man  and  a  Cbristijiii.' 

'  We  are  going  to  dine  at  the  "Eagle" 
next  Thursday  ;  and  we  are  so  sorry  iliat 
we  shall  have  to  lose  your  company.' 

'1  am  not  much  given  to  ])nblic  din- 
ners, Mr.  Wixton  ;  but  if  my  company  is 
of  any  use  to  you  I  shall  be  glad  to  at- 
tend, always  provided  your  chairman 
does  noi  object.' 

'The  ebtertainment  is  to  be  public, 
and  no  one  can  object.' 

'  Very  well.  I  shall  be  there.  By 
the  way,  I  may  as  well  pay  you  my  sub- 
scription as  a  niember.' 

And  ])Utting  the  money  into  their 
haiuN,  Ludovii'ko  bowed  them  out ;  the 
whole  three  going  away  with  tlie  impres- 
sion, tliat  if  there  ever  was  a  meek  and 
injured  man  on  the  earth,  or  (uiein  whom 
tiie  beatitudes  more  tully  centered  than 
in  another,  it  was  their  ex-secretary  Mr. 
Ludovieko  Grant.  The  story  got  wind, 
and  there  was  a  great  reaction  in  hudo- 
vi<;ko's  favor,  lie  was  not  exactly  what 
niiglit  have  been  called  a  i)o|)ular  man, 
but  it.  was  thought  that  he  had  been  most 
unliandsomely  treated ;  and  it  was  agreed 
on  all  hands,  that  if  Ludovieko  did  in 
some  degree  deserve  to  get  over  the 
lingers,  John  Grahmn  had  not  exactly 
sucii  clean  bands  himself  as  to  entitle  him 
to  the  administration  Qf  the  law.  Ludo- 
vieko, too,  had  been  blamed  ^^^'  being  re-  • 
vengeful ;  but  his  disinterested  conduct 
gave  tiie  lie  to  tliis  aspersion  ;  and  ho 
now,  for  the  first  time,  stood  decidedly 
high  in  public  estimation. 

Astliedinnerdrew  near,  it  was  thought 
that  it  would  be  injured  by  Mr.  Graham 
being  chairman  ;  but  as  many  people  are 
fond  of  public  dinners,  and  as  it  was 
known  that  i  udo^iicko  was  to  be  present, 
numerous  guests  were  present  from  mere 
curiosity.  At  last  the  day  came  ;  and  it 
was  remarktd  that,  as  the  company  as- 
sembled iu  the  ante-room,  tlie  greetings 


62 


CRAK^T ALLAN    CASTLE. 


to  Mr.  Ciraliam  were  few  and  cold,  wliilc 
tliose  to  Liulovicko  were  luvjueroiis  and 
eiilliiisiastic.  Un  sittiiifi:  down,  Ludo- 
vioko  \v;us  placed  on  the  right  of  the 
croupier,  fair  in  llie  faceof  the  ciiairinan  ; 
and  th<.'n  tlie  business  of  tiie  evening  com- 
menced. On  tlie  removal  of  the  cloth, 
Joiin  gave  the  usual  li>yal  toasts,  then 
])rospority  to  the  society;  hut  all  his  e.x- 
iiiliitions  were  received  witli  freezing 
coldness,  in  due  time  the  cou])ier  i>ro- 
posed  theciiairman;  no  one  appeared  wil- 
ling to  rise  to  the  toast;  luil  Ludovicko 
.stood  u]),  and  then  all  followed  his  e.xam- 
jde.  Jsubse'iueutly  Mr.  Cirant  and  tlie 
legal  professi.in  vvasprnpf  sed,  which  was 
received  with  much  cheering,  and  then 
Ludovicko  spoke  in  reply,  and  was  listen- 
ed to  amidst  great  applause.  In  short, 
John  was  well  punished.  J]ut  one  tiling 
annoyed  him  and  anotiier  rogue  in  tlie 

'  company  beyond  measure;  an.i  that  was 
the  looks  of  Ludiivicktf.  We  have  mure 
than  once  referred  to  the  peculiar  expres- 
sion of  tliis  singular  man.  Wheu  tixed 
on  any  person  tor  a  lenrth  of  time,  tiie 
eye,  first  careless,  gradually  assumed  a 
look  of  intense  meaning,  the  \>i\\>\\  dilat- 
ed, and  then  came  the  basilisk  eliect,  tiie 
victim  bectiiiiingthe  subject  of  a  Aiy^ite- 
rioiis  terr-or,  as  if  the  owner  of  that  evil 
eye  were  suddenly  to  burst  upon  iiini,  and 
inllict  a  deadly  injury.  Joliii  (»ra]iam 
quailed  like  a  child  whenever  he  felt  that 
eye  upon  iiim,  a  tlirill  went  through  his 
bones;  and  a  cold  moisture  came  out 
"U|)on  his  lorehead,  as  if  the  dews  of  night 
Were  seitlmg  down  upon  him.  John  ex- 
aggerated its  intluence;  for  con>cience, 
which  makes  cowards  of  all  evil-doers, 
told  him  that  he  had  wantonly  insulted 
Ludovicko  He  saw,  too,  that  all  the 
comjiany  was  against  him,  and  he  had  a 
mysterious  premonition  that  Ludovicko 
intended  liim  some  evil ;  but  still  the  eye 
■was  in  itself  potent  to  terrify  and  alarm. 
The  other  member  ot  the  company  on 
whom  Ludovicko  bent  his  looks  was  ! 
Wainright.  He  had  his  suspicions  ol' that  j 
gentleman  from  the  tirst,  for  Wainright  i 
h:id  tried  to  overreach  him  in  settling ac-  ! 
count-;.  lie  had  been  struck  by  tlie  pilot's  1 
account  of  the  shipwreck,  tiie  inconsist- 
eut  statements  of  Copi)eras  the  ca|)tMin, 
and  above  all,  by  the  treating  of  his  ne- 
phew. Ludovicko  watched  for  indica- 
tions ;  and  as  the  glistening  eye  ever  and 
anon  settled  on  Waini^ght,  the  latter 
thought  to  himself  that  it  would  not  i)e 
Well  to  allow  himself  t«  be  terrified  by  it 
as  that  was  an  eye  which,  if  allowed, 
Would  seaiTh  his  soul  to  the  inmost  (^ore; 
and  dragging  its  evil  designs  from  their 

slimy  recosses,  reveal  them  to  the  light  of 


day.  Had  the  honest  farmers  and  bnr- 
g!iers,asthey  quaffed  and  laughed,  known 
that  three  such  rogues  were  amongst 
them,  they  would  have  tied  the  place  as 
scared  men ;  but,  in  mercy,  the  intents  of 
dark  min<ls  are  enshrouded  up  from  all 
excei)t  Him  who  was  invisible,  and  vvlf  ni 
therefore  igiioraiitly  they  do  not  dread. 
(Jraham  was  the  cowai(My,  Wainright  the 
accomplished,  (Jrant  tTe  crafty  vilj.-i.in  ; 
but  there  they  sat  among  simple-hearted 
and  virtuous  j)eoi)le,  without  let  or  hin- 
drance; ami  for  this  obvious  reason,  tiiat 
the  tares  and  tlie  wheat  are  allowed  to 
grow  together  forAa  time. 

Ludovicko  rose  at  .an  early  hour,  and 
many  resi)ectable  parties  rose  with  him. 
The  chairman  sat  still,  thinking  it  would, 
be  i/ifra  d.g.  for  him  to  takehi>«cue  from 
Ludovicko.  He  had  better,  however, 
have  gone  away,  for  his  dignity  suffered 
sorely  by  his  remaining.  When  so  many 
guests  had  retired,  the  residuary  com|)a- 
ny  got  restive,  and  several  parties  not  be- 
longing to  the  original  assemblage  were 
allowed  to  come  in,  by  favor  of  tJie 
waiters.  Proliably  among  these  were 
Mori-on.  Kankiii  and  Skipton;  the  latter 
being  unusually  disposed  for  froiic.  As 
the  night  advanced,  and  the  revellers  be- 
came noisy  and  combative,  John  gradual- 
ly lost  all  i)ower  t)f  control.  He  wa^ 
about  to  intiiiuite  his  withdrawal,  when, 
being  rudely  jostled  behind  b^- some  de- 
parting bacch.-rnalian,  he  looked  round, 
and  received  a  tig  which  Skiptou  had 
aimed  at  a  sleeping  guest. 

'Jurning  angrily  round  to  discover 
where  the  missile  came  from,  a  nut  inten- 
tionally thrown  from  the  thumb-battery 
of  liankin  struck  him  on  the  cheek.  John 
could  stand  this  iu>  longer;  he  made  his 
bow,  and  walked  oft"  unmissed  in  the 
general  confusion.  I'he  conspirators  fol- 
lowed him,  as  he  entered  his  carri.age  a 
hu::e  orange  struck  his  hat.  Kankin  and 
Skipton  mounted  behind  the  vehicle, 
Skipton  promising  to  introduce  tliein  to 
tiie  maidens  of  the  citadel  1;^'  a  loop-hole 
unknown  totlieold  housekeeper.  Morison 
was  about  to  join  them  ;  but,  receiving  a 
tap  from  Wainright,  he  remained  behind. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 


RK-UNION. 


Exactly  at  the  beginning  of  the  win- 
ter quarter  Miss  Sarali  (Ti-aham  entered 
tiie  finishing  boarding  establishment  at 
Taliss  Hank,  near  St.  David's,  conducted 
by  Miss  Priscilla  Starcli,  assisted  by  a 


CRAIGALLAJT  CAStLi:. 


63 


numerons  staff  of  professors,  lecturers, 
and  governesses.  It  is  not  to  be  supjxjsed 
^  that  she  there  attracted  the  same  atten- 
tion that  she  liad  done  in  Paulton;  for 
as  lier  inotlier  truly  predicted,  there  were 
so  many  young  ladies  tliere,  and  of  snch 
varied  attractions,  that  unless  tlie  prope'- 
ties  of  any  one  of  them  were  decidedly 
calnmnialinjr,  they  iiad  no  chance  of  be- 
ing particularly  distinguished.  Many  of 
Miss  Starch  s  'young  friends'  were  riciier 
than  8arali,  man}' of  tliem  more  cunning 
in  fasliicnable accomplishments,  and  real- 
ly, it  the  truth  must  be  told,  some  ot  them 
had  more  striking  figures  and  prettier 
faces.  Edward  Turner  could  not  have 
been  brought  to  believe  this  tact;  Imt 
vre  are  not,  as  faithful  historians,  bound 
to  adhere  to  the  dictation  of  love->ii'k 
young  gentlemen.  All  ladies  and  gentle- 
men in  his  ^it"ati()n  are  prone  to  exag- 
geration, and,  to  the  end  of  time,  will  in- 
sist on  seeing,  and  on  others  seeing,  quali- 
ties in  their  beaux  and  l)ellesi  which  exist 
only  in  their  own  heated  imaginations. 
Strange  is  the  affection  between  the  sexes. 
If  a  girl  is  a  romp,  her  lover  thinks  it  a 
bewitciiingeccentricity;  ifayounginan  is 
dissi])ated  it  is  oidy  an  exul)erance  of  si)i  lit 
in  the  eye  of  his  mistress.  If  a  lady's 
nose  inclines  to  the  pug,  it  gives  tone  to 
the  countenance;  if  a  gentleman  has  a 
squint,  he  is  set  down  as  intellectual. 
Happy  jirinciple,  that  in  a  w  irld  undeni- 
ably endowed  with  a  reasonable  share  of 
thorns  and  thisiles,'a  disposition  should 
exist  to  convert  blemishes  into  graces. 

Edward,. and  indeed  nobodj',  recpiired 
much  of  the  ideal  in  order  to  regard  Sa- 
rah as  a  beautiful  girl.  Still  in  her  teens, 
her  Itiiigllaxen  hair  fell  in  massive  ring- 
lets over  a  brow  of  uncommon  openness; 
the  mouth,  the  exponent  ot  teelings,  was 
indicaiive  of  the  purest  benevolence; 
tlie  brigiit  blue  eye  beamed  intellgMU'e, 
and  the  whole  lace  was  that  of  a  sensible, 
pure-minded,  loveable  young  woman. 
More  cannot  be  said.  In  conduct  she  gave 
MissStarch  no  trouble;  and  tliat  lady  was 
at  a  loss  to  understand  the  kind  of  do- 
mestic insubordination  of  which  she  was 
accused  by  Mrs.  (irabam.  With  the  other 
young  ladies  she  was- a  general  favoiite, 
unobtrusiveiicss  and  good  temper  being 
qualities  which  gain  triendsaswell  within 
as  without  the  walls  of  a  boardiiig-sch(.ol. 
The  young  lady  with  whom  Sarah  most 
associated  Wiis  Amelia  Paterson,  who,  in 
ago  and  tastes,  with  the  addition  of  more 
liveliness,  bore  considerable  resemblance 
to  herself.  Amelia  belonge<l  to  the  city, 
her  father  being  one  of  the  professors  in 
the  University,  and,  in  conse(inence,,she 
only  attended  the  classes  throughout  the 


day.  It  was  arranged  between  the  two 
young  ladies  that  Sarah,  with  the  per- 
mission of  Miss  Starch,  should  visit  the 
Patersons  during  the  Ciirislmas  holidays, 
of  course,  in  ad<iition  to  small  entertain- 
ments, there  was  to  be  onegrand  evening 
] )a rty,  i n  order,  as  M rs.  Pat.ersi tn  a !  1  ec t : •  >n- 
ately  said,  that  the  yotmg  people  migUt 
have  a  dance.  Sarah  assisted  at  the  mak- 
ing up  ot  Ihe  invitation-cards,  and  great 
was  the  consumption  ot  colored  note-pa- 
per, colored  envelo])es,  and  colored  wax 
on  the  blessed  occasion,  to  say  i  oliiingof 
the  bnrning  of  tapers  during  the  blessed 
day. 

•I  wonder,  mamma,  how  it  is,' said 
Miss  Paterson.  '  that  papa  so  seldom  asks 
any  of  his  students  to  our  parties.  Tliere's 
Dr.  Triangle,  now  ;  whenever  he  has  a 
rout  he  has  a  lot  of  nice  students — some 
ot  them  even  taking  the  shine  out  of 
some  of  the  otficers;  and  then  they  call 
there,  and  arm  the  Triangles  to  church 
and  market.  Now,  here  we  are  dull  all 
the  year  round.' 

'  Papais  too  tight-laced  upon  that  [)oint. 
But  here  he  comes  to  answer  for  himself. 
Papa,  Amelia  wants  you  to  ask  some  of 
your  students  tor  Thursday  evening.' 

'  Nonsense,  man;ma,'  reidied  the  learn- 
ed ppofessor. 

'She  says  that  Dr.  Triangle's  people 
always  have  them.' 

'I  do  not  know  what  may  take  [dace 
at  Dr.  Triauiile's  ;  but  I  know  that  when 
I  was  a  student  many  of  us  were  asked 
to  Dr.  llypothenuse's,  and  I  know  the 
opinion  ot  the  class  concerning  tliem.' 

'What  was  it,  i)apa? — do  tell  us,'  said 
the  curious  Ameliii. 

'Do  you  insist  on  knowing  it,  Ame- 
lia?' 

'  I  do.'  « 

'Well,  then,  the  on  dit  was,  that  the 
rich  students  only  were  a-ked,  and  they 
were  so  honored  in  order  tiiat  they 
migJit  have  an  opportunity  or  uiaking 
up  to  the  misses.' 

'  For  sliame,  papa  I  And  before  Jliss 
Graham,  too,  I  really  am  surprised  at 
you,'  said  the  mother. 

'  Truth  is  truth,'  rejoined  the  undaunt- 
ed pundit.  '  But,  by  the  wny,  I  have 
one  stiident,  a  very  clever  fellow,  that  I 
mean  to  pay  some  attention  to  during 
the  session,  and  I  shall  ask  him.' 

'You  may  sprre  yourself  the  trouble, 
after  the  explanntion  you  have  given, 
said  the  dame,  tartly. 

'  Don't  bo  alarmed,  nunnma,  I  mean 
to  ask  him  entirely  on  my  own  account. 
He  is  such  a  hard  student,  that  I  question 
if  he  will  come ;  or,  if  he  should,  <lepend 
upon  it  ho  will  not  elope  eitlier  with  Miss 


64 


CRAIGALLAN    CASTLE. 


Graham  or  Amelia.     Our  hard  studonf- 
are  never  galhiiits.' 

'Oil  inaiiiiiia!  let  him  coine  by  :\V 
means,' isaid  Amelia.  'Papa'rf  favonle.- 
are  all  such  i)ddities;  depend  on  it,  wt 
shall  have  as  iiiucli  lun  as  we  liad  last 
year  with  tlie  astronomical  schoolmaster 
who  askwd  you  about  Jupitei-'s  moons.' 

The  introduction  of  tea  put  an  end  to 
tlie  conversation  ;  a..d  after  the  sun  liad 
ri.sen  and  set  the  recjuisite  nuudter  of 
times,  tlie  {rreat  Thursday  came  round. 
The  young  Patersons  commenced  dress- 
lug  and  preparations  at  an  early  hour; 
and,  as  there  was  much  to  do,  Saral)  lent 
her  aid  with  great  alacrity,  and  caught 
the  glow  of  the  genend  .hilarity  that  pre- 
vailed. At  length,  sharp  by  seven,  every- 
thing was  read}-;  and  then  what  a  ring- 
ing of  bells,  opening  and  shuttingof  doors 
began  !  Announcements  of  professors, 
doctors,  ca[)tains  and  ministers  without 
,end.  In  the  very  heat  of  the  bustle,  tin- 
servant,  in  what  seemed  to  Sarah  a  voice 
of  very  thunder,  called  out,  'Mr.  E-'- 
ward  Turner!' 

Sarah  gasped  for  breath,  and  curious- 
ly, yet  trembling  with  agitation,  looke 
towards  the  d(M)r  ;  and,  su.^f^  enough,  in 
came  Turner,  in  pro^jria  persona^  but 
how  chaiigod  !  No  more  tlie  timid  lad, 
but  the  self-composed  youth,  with  the 
stamj)  and  air  of  manhood,  as  well  as  the 
look  uiul  bearing  of  a  gentleman.  Quick 
in  his  perceptions,  Edward  had  not  been 
at  college  many  days  till  he  discovered 
that  his  rustic  air  attracted  attention 
not  only  amongst  the  students,  but 
amongst  the  people  frequenting  Mr.  1 1  od  ■ 
ges's  house,  to  which  he  was  often  in- 
vited ;  and  he  had  the  good  sense  to  dis- 
cover that  in  his  new  position  pybah  was 
necessary  to  success  as  well  as  solid  ac- 
quirement, lie  therefore  ft,/])lied  some 
of  the  funds  furnished  b^  IJodges  for  the 
purpose  of  receiving  leosons  in  dancing, 
fencing,  gymnastics;  ai:d  the  result  in  the 
case  of  one  naturally  of  graceful  habits, 
told  rapidly  on  his  appearuance. 

The  professor  accosted  and  took  him 
up  to  his  family  circle  in  ouder  to  be  in- 
troduced. When  he  saw  Sarah,  the 
floor  ai)peared  hollow  beneath  his  feet, 
and  there  was  every  prospect  of  a  scene  ;  j 
for  Sarah,  in  her  turn,  telt  as  if  she  was 
about  to  swoon.  Hut  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  talking  and  n'.ise  in  the  room, 
other  guests  had  to  be  introduced  to  the 
family,  and  so,  having  received  the  hand 
of  Mrs.  Paterson,  Edward  bowed  cere- 
monii'Usly  to  Amelia  and  Sarah,  and 
passed  on. 

A    nndtitude     of    emrtions     passed 
through  the  mind  of  Edward  on  tiuding 


I  liinisclf  under  the  snme  roof  with  Sarah, 
.ind  for  the  first  time  meeting  her  on 
lerms  nearly  approaching  to  equality. 
Ilow  to  act  in  the  circumstances  he  could 
not  for  tlie  eWorld  determine. 

'  I  might  address  her,'  thought  he,  'but 
it  would  be  taking  an  luigeiierous  advan- 
tage of  an  accidental  interview;  and 
might  it  not  also  be  abusing  the  profe.-*- 
sor's  hospitality  by  converting  it  into  an 
occasion  for  intruding  on  the  privacy  of 
a  y(»iing  lady  who  has  already  experi- 
enced the  displeasure  of  her  relations  on 
myaccoimt?  Ng;  I  do  not  know  who 
nniy  be  here,  and  if  I  were  to  accost  her 
it  might  bring  her  into  further  trouble, 
or  siie  might  think  me  presumptuous, 
and  I  would  fall  in  her  estimation  forever. 
I  wjsh  1  had  never  come  here  at  all,  or 
that  I  could  decently  get  out  again.' 

Edward's  diphnnacy  for  the  evening 
coTisisted  in  trying  to  get  glimpses  of  Sa- 
rah without  being  seen  ;  but  i;nfortunate- 
ly  Sarah  was  trying  the  same  game  with 
him  ;  and  as  a  candle  cannot  burn  at 
both  ends,  so,  both  trying  to  see  without 
being  seen,  the  consequence  was  that 
both  were  very  much  disappointed;  or, 
if  they  did  occasionally  get  a  sight  of  each 
other,  the  moment  they  did  so  their  eyes 
met,  and  both  being  frightened  at  this 
phenomenon,  the  pastime  of  hide-aiud- 
seek  became  most  Avearis(mie. 

'  He  docs  not  care  for  me  now  !'  thought 
Sarah.  '  lie  has  met  with  other  girls 
cleverer  than  I  am,  and  they  have  put  me 
out  of  his  head.  He  will  be  spoilt  by  these 
young  ladies  in  the  corner,  the^'  are  all 
making  so  much  of  him.  I  know  he  does 
not  care  tor  money,  and  I  fancy  he  wishea 
that  I  should  see  v/hat  talent  can  accom- 
plish without  wealth.  Perhaps  he  has 
never  forgiven  me  for- trying  to  oiler  him 
money!  Alas!  he  little  knows  how  glad 
I  would  have  been  one  day  if  ariybody 
had  given  me  the  sum  I  intended  for  him! 
Oh,  I  know  it;  he  takes  me  to  l)e  like 
tlie  Paulton  girls,  all  show  and  iu)thing 
else!  He  is  esteemed  here  wherever  he 
goes,  and  means  to  tell  me  he  is  now  re- 
ceiving his  true  deserts,  lie  is  away  to 
another  circle.  Oh,  gracious  lie  is  com- 
ing this  way  !  0  Amelia — (this  aloud) — 
this  end  is  getting  hot,  please  come  dong. 
Poor  fellow — (this  aside) — he  has  stop- 
ped when  he  saw  me  going  !  Well,  now, 
it  was  stupid  in  me  to  go  off  altogether. 
If  he  comes  this  way  again  1  will  stop, 
although  1  should  die  on  the  spot !' 

'  IJless  me,  i)apa,'  said  Amelia,  '  What 
has  become  of  your  awkward  student?' 

'  I  introduced  you  to  him  half  an  hour 
ago.' 

'i  neversawliim.  Did  you,  Sarah  dear  t' 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


6$ 


'  I  saw  no  awkward  student !'  answer- 
ed Sar.ih,  with  a  visible  pouc  on  her  cher- 
ry luoiuh. 

♦  Where  is  he,  papa!' 

'  Laughing  tuere  with  the  three  Miss 
Triangles.' 

'  W  hat !  that  handsome  fellow  with 
the  fine  bniwu  liair  and  spt- ctacles  ?  Sarah, 
in  3'(iur  ear,  my  love  :  1  have  been  ad- 
miring that  youth  tfie  whole  night !  Papa, 
do  you  think  you  have  been  paying  hiiu 
sufliuient  attention,  (;(;nsidering  that  he 
is  tile  only  one  of  your  students,  and  can 
know  tew  peijple!' 

'  Upon  my  word,  Amelia,  I  daresay 
you  are  right,  although  I  find  that  my 
diligent  friend,  notwitt)standing  his  mid- 
night  oil,  contrives  to  make  liimself  prt^t- 
ty  much  at  tiome.  Stay  here  and  1  will 
fetch  him.  I  see  the  Triangles  are  off  to 
the  officers.' 

'My  trid!'  thought  Sarah;  and  she 
trembled  from  head  to  foot.' 

'  Dear  me.  Sarah,'  said  the  uncon- 
Bcious  Amrlia,  '  what  a  curious  su' jtct 
you  arc  !  The  other  minute  you  were 
complaining  of  heiit,  and  now  your  teeth 
are  (tliatterinj:,  sis  if  you  were  in  Siberia.' 

'  I  di>n  t  feel  very  well.  Let  us  go, 
Amelia.' 

'  Nothing  of  the  sort.  Papa  is  bringing 
that  nice  fellow  here,  and  I  mean  to  have 
a  talk  with  him.' 

LJ]i  came  the  professor  and  Edward,  the 
lovers  feeling  that  the  catinon's  m(juth 
Would  have  been  felicity  compared  with 
this  mcf-ting. 

'  We  have  a  majority  of  ladies.  Turner, 
by  some  mishap ;  and  some  of  our  friends 
here,'  said  the  professor,  '  compl.iin  that 
there  has  not  been  enough  of  dancing.' 

Edward  took  the  bint,  and,  with  much 
deference,  asked  if  he  might  be  honored 
to  have  Miss  Patersonas  a  partner  forthfe 
next  quadrille. 

Sarah  turned  warm  at  this  announce- 
meut ;  another  gentleman  asked  her  hand 
for  a  second  quadrille  in  a  different  part 
of  the  room,  and  so  she  could  not  even 
dance  in  the  same  set. 

The  quadrille  over,  Amelia  hung  on  Ed- 
ward's arm  for  some  time,  and  the  two 
conversed  long  and  earnestly.  On  quitting 
him,  Amelia  hastened  to  Sarah,  and 
twitted  her  on  looking  cross.  Sarah  de- 
nied, and  said  something  about  having  a 
dull  partner 

'That  was  not  my  misfortune,'  said 
Amelia.  '  Turner.^is  a  jewel  of  a  mm, 
and  so  free  from  conceit  and  forwurdne.s.s 
like  young  men  of  his  age.  Do  you  know, 
Sarah,  I  h.^ve  a  good  mind  to  set  my  c;ip 
fur  this  I  erson.  I  am  told  he  is  pour, 
but  old  ilodges  has  taken  a  fincy  for  hiui. 


Besides,  papa  says  he  is  so  clever  and  well 
well-behavcd,  that  fie  is  sure  to  get  on 
even  without  lu-lp.  But,  dear  me,  giii, 
how  funny  yt<u  are  looking  to-night,  to  ba 
sure!      I liis  anything  vexcdyou!" 

'  Nothing;  but  altogether  1.  don't  foil 
quite  Well.' 

During  the  college  session,  Edward 
again  met  Sarah  at  a  parly,  and  in  cir- 
cumstances more  f.ivorable  than  at  tlic 
rout  of  the  professors  lady.  An  early 
friend  of  Miss  Starch  came  to  live  wiili 
Miss  [lodges,  the  sister  and  housekeeper 
of  Edward  s  pitron.  Miss  Staicti  was  in- 
vited to  meet  tier  at  dinner,  and  was  re- 
quested to  firing  Some  of  her  young  ladies 
witfi  her;  and  as  Sarah  had  no  a'.^qu.iio- 
tances  in  the  town  except  the  I'alleiMHis, 
siie  and  another  young  lady  were  selected 
as  Companions  tor  the  occ.ision.  Edward 
was  also  invited,  and,  the  party  being 
small,  ample  (opportunity  was  ail  infed  lor 
Conversatmn  and  cuntact ;  but  again  Ed- 
ward avoided  all  intercourst!  witti  Saab, 
except  what  C'linmon  poliiejit  ss  rendered 
necessary.  In  the  course  of  t.dking,  Mi*s 
Starch  happeneii  to  allude  to  Mi-s  Gra- 
ham as  coming  from  Paulton. 

'  Oh,  then  she  will  be  a  townswonian 
of  our  friend  Edward.  1  say,  I'urner,  have 
you  met  Miss  (iraham  bef  ire  V 

'  Yes,' replied  Edward,  with  Consider- 
able confusion  and  hesitation. 

'  You  don't  seem  as  if  you  knew  each 
other.' 

'  No,  T  had  not  the  honor  of  meeting 
Miss  Graham,  in  Paulton,  on  terms  of  in- 
tiuuicy.' 

•'  No  ;  and  you  do  not  appear  ineline/l  to 
do  so  yet.  I  'oeg  yonr  p  irilon.  Miss  Gra- 
ham, but  you  are  not  looking  well,  if  I 
can  apply  such  a  phnuse  to  a  young  lady 
of  your  appearance.  Edward,  help  Miss 
Gratiam  to  souie  wine.' 

'  Pray  don't  tMuble  yourself,  .'^ir,'  said 
Miss  Starch.  '  Miss  Graham,  coiue  with 
me  to  the  next  room ;  perhaps,  Miss 
Hodges,  yciu  will  show  us  tiie  way.' 

'  Certainly,'  replied  Miss  Hodges  ;  and 
E<iward,  shaking  visibly,  opened  the  door 
for  them. 

On  Sarah  being  revived  with  a  glass  of 
water.  Miss  Starch  commenced  a  cate- 
chetical examination  with  groat  solem- 
nity. 

'  Miss  fJrabara,  wag  that   yomig  u 
ever  in  a  druggist  s  shop  in  Pa'illon?' 

'  lie  was,  ma'am.' 

'  Why  di<l  you  not  tell  nic.  Miss  Gra- 
ham 1  It  was  very  cruel  of  you  to  put 
mein  a  false  position  |iro!'ession  illy.' 

'  I  do  not  undefstnnd  you,  maam.' 

'  Your  nKvthnr,  Mrs.  (ir  diam,  wrote 
mo,  that  in  3'  n  ling  you  here,  one  of  th« 


u 


CR.V[GALLA>f  CASTIJ!. 


objiects  she  had  in  view  was  to  keep  jou 
out  <'f  tLie  way  of  tlial  jounji;  umn." 

'  But  I  did  not  knuv\  that.,  Ali.>s  Stiireh." 
'  You  lui^lit,  howi-ver,  have  c()nji'C- 
tured.  Oh,  goocliies^ti  uiu !  that  i,  who 
have  been  so  sueeet-blul  in  guiding  the 
htudies  I't'  the  young,  and  who  liave  got  a 
nauje  for  the  propriety  and  di  meanor  of 
ray  pupils  even  in  the  colonies,  thut  I 
should  have  been  entrujiped  into  allowing 
tiandesline  correspondence  under  my  very 
eyes." 

'iJine  Starch,'  replied  Sarah,  with 
^reat  firmness,  'you  do  jue  injustice,  and 
give  yourself  unnecessary  alarm.  1  have 
Been  the  young  man  only  onee,  and  then 
'fit  Amelia  Patterson's,  and  both  b^  mere 
fttxjidfiit ;  atid  he  has  m>t  spoken  a  word 
t/t)  me  that  you  .'.'nd  tlie  whole  world 
Jjiight  nat  havie  heard.' 

»  J 'lit  he  may  have  writter!  V 

'liii  has  not  written!  In'^eed,  I  do 
not  tiiink  that  he  cares  a  straw  iC'.'"  u^e, 
and  alv.Mys  t-ikes  care  to  avoid  me. 

'  A  mere  wile  to  make  ytni  jealous. 
Oh,  iny  <iear,  you  do  not  Lnow  the  men. 
liut.  however  that  may  be,  1  am  answer- 
able to  your  mother,  Sarah  ;  do  you  there- 
P.rt!  give" me  your  word  of  honor  that  you 
will  not  see,  or  write  to,  this  young  man 
Becretly  !' 

'  1  do.' 

'  Well,  then,  that  is  sottled  ;  T  know  1 
can  trust  you.  Now,  Miss  Hodges,  you 
liiust  dine  with  us  to-morrow  ;  I  thought 
no  much  of  that  young  man  that  I  asked 
him  too ;  but,  of  course,  he  must  not 
couic.  Will  you  or  your  brother  kindly 
put  him  ofi'with  some  excuse  or  other  j' 

'  My  brother  thinks  so  much  of  him, 
that  if  you  ask  him  to  do  anything  so  un- 
iuiivd,  he  will  take  it  very  much  annss,  and 
perhaj>3  pot  dine  with  you  himself.' 

•  Well,  yotj.  Miss  Hodges,  can  do  it.  I 
fira  a  yirofessionui  person,  you  know.' 

*  1  am.  a  professitjnal  person,  too,  for  T 
keep  my  b.rothers  house,  and  I  could  not 
(.fJVnd  iiim  by  meddling  with  fidward.— 
Besides  I  respect  him  myself;  bad  I  been 
Tuung,  he  is  just  the  sort  of  person  1 
would  have  taken  for  a  husband.'  _    . 

'  Excuse  me  Miss  Hodges,  that  is  not 
language  fit  to  be  used  before  one  of  my 
pupils  as  yet  uninitiated  in  the  ways  of 
the  world.' 

'  Fiddlestick  !'  said  the  more-than-plea- 
pant  Miss  Hodges.  '  [  have  always  s  .i<l 
to  you  that  you  treat  your  pupiis  tort 
fliuch  like  children.  The  l.ssie  kens  iis 
much  about  these  things^  as  evjr  she 
will ;  and  whatever  her  mother  may 
think  or  whatever  Edward  may  have  Inen 
in  a  gabbing  place  like  PauUnn,  she 
might  be  very  glad  t3  get  him.     But  the 


bell  liiis  rung  twice  for  hot  w.i6er,  and 
n.ibiidy  answered  it.'  And  60  off  weot 
Miss  Hodges. 

'  lor  my  sake,  Miss  Graham,  pay  no 
attention  to  Miss  Hodges  ;  she  meanf 
v\  ell,  but  you  see  she  has  foolish  notions, 
and  a  very  alwurd  way  of  expressing 
tliem.  Oh,  I  wish  we  were  out  of  this 
houco.' 

On  leaving  the  room  and  crossing  tho ' 
lobby  they  met  Edward. 

'  A  Word  with  you,  sir,  if  you  pleaeo. 
Miss  Graham,  p;iS8  on,"  eaid  ^liss  bt.uch. 
'  Will  JOU,  sir,  without  as >  iny  any  ques- 
tions. Consider  the  invitation  1  gave  you 
!or  to-morrow  recalled  1 ' 

'Madame,'  answered  Edward,  'I  have 
so  high  an  opinion  of  your  views  of  pro- 
j)riety,  that  I  shall  regard  it  as  a  privi- 
lege to  be  allowed  to  accede  to  them.' 

'Thank  you,  sir;  1  tnay  afterwards 
have  an  opportunity  of  acknowledging 
your  politeness.' 

'  Your  present  good  opinion  is  of  it- 
self a  suf&iient  reward  ;'  and  Edward 
liowed  himself  to  the  ground. 

Once  move  Etlward  ssiw  Sarah  alone, 
and  on  the  sti-eet  leading  out  U)  Taliea 
Bank. 

'  Shoidd  I  speak?'  thought  he. 

'  Will  he  sjeak  ?'  Hiought  she. 

Alas!  alas!  iutirmity  of  purpose,  arii- 
ing  from  very  depth  of  attachmt  ut,  again 
(lid  its  work,  and,  blushing  scarlet,  he 
touched  his  hat.  Sarah,  palJing  as  usual 
when  the  critical  time  came,  reddened 
when  she  saw  him  pass. 

'I  shall  presently  go  mad  with  love  or 
hate  !  Would  that  1  Unew  ids  tlumghts. 
If  he  despised  me,  I  might  contrive  to 
despise  him  too.  No  ;  1  could  not  do 
that.  Alas  !  I  could  never  school  my 
heart  to  despise  him  who  is  its  idol.  But 
why  does  he  not  speak '  He  may  have 
heard  of  my  pledge  to  Miss  Starch  ;  but  I 
am  just  about  going  away,  and  one  wsrd 
now  would  have  been  no  sin.  If  he  were 
less  proud,  1  think  he  would  love  me,  or 
had  I  been  poor,  like  Aiuelia  P.iterson,  I 
think  he  would  do  it.  1  cannot  live  thi» 
way  ;  1  must  know  the  worst  at  once.  1 
might  make  Amelia  my  eonfidatit.  No — 
that  w(mld  not  do — she  loves  him  too.' 

Ami  Sarah  never  told  her  love. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

lovers'  vows. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  University  ses- 
sion,  Eilward  returned  to.PauIton.  1I« 
arrived  by  tlie  evening  mail,  and,  as  might 


CRAIQALLAN  CASTLE. 


«T 


kftve  Ihmjti  expected,  his  fii«t  act  was  to 
Walk  along  the  CraigalliUi-road,  knowing, 
as  he  did,  that  Sarah  had  retunieil  home 
BOiiie  week  or  two  hefore.  lie  wenl  dose 
up  to  the  castle,  and  saw  from  the  few 
lights  that  the  lainily  were  by  themselves. 
Was  Sirah  there?  was  the  anxious  cogi- 
tation of  the  l(jver  ;  and  il  thi-re,  how 
coul  1  he  obtain  an  interview  '  His  niiml 
was  now  made  up  tit  brave  all  h  iz  irds  ; 
and  hid  he  lived  in  the  days  of  kni^lit-er- 
rantry,  he  might  have  eli  dleriged  cham- 
pions hy  the  si-ore,  on  the  supposition  that 
their  defeat  held  out  the  slightest  pros- 
pect of  his  being  able  to  gain  his  object 
But  in  modern  times  anxious  swains  must 
try  strat ig-m,  not  passages  of  aius  ;  an<l 
in  V  dn  Edward  walked  to  anil  fro,  cudgel 
ling  his  invention  if  perchance  he  could 
hit  on  my  me  ins  of  conveying  a  message 
to  Sir.ih,  in  order  to  gain  her  consent  to 
a  secret  meeting.  Hid  tlie  professors 
guppt-r,  or  the  citizi^n's  dinner,  or  the  roao 
iutfrview  been  enacted  de  novo,  tie  woulo 
now  gladly  have  availed  himself  of  any  ol 
them  ;  Itut  chances  in  love,  like  cliances 
in  war,  do  not  come  at  mere  bidding  Ihi 
tide,  if  not  ta'<en  by  tlie  flowing,  will  not, 
toll  bick  to  serve  the  purposes  of  the  in- 
dolent mariner.  Star  after  st.ir  came  out, 
till  the  blue  vault  of  heaven  was  spangled 
as  with  silver  lights,  3-et  no  project  S(Ttn)g 
Up  ill  the  bewildered  brain  of  the  ardent 
youth.  At  length,  in  sheer  vacancy  of 
thought,  haviniaccidently  wandered  down 
the  road  leading  to  Arthur  the  sailor  s 
cottage,  he  bethought  himself  of  trying 
the  agency  of  some  of  its  inmates.  On 
entering,  he  lound,  to  his  mortilicKtion, 
that  no  one  was  within  except  the  little 
child  whose  life  he  had  formerly  saved. 

'  Where  is  your  mother,  my  dear  V  said 
he,  addressing  the  little  one. 

'  My  mother  is  out,'  replied  the  girl, 
fixing  her  large  eyes  intently  on  the  stran- 
ger. 

'  And  father,  were  is  he  V 

'  F  ith<r  is  on  the  big  sea ;  and  me  eays 
mine  prayers  for  him.' 

'  V>  ly  right ; — when  will  your  mother 
beinl 

The  child  stared,  and,  after  apause,  re- 
mark.-d,  spontaneously — 

'  Mother  gi  e  me  mine  supper,  and  then 
Maggie  go  to  her  lied.' 

Ihere  was  hope  here,  for  if  Maggie  had 
to  get  her  supper  and  to  be  put  to  bed, 
E<lward  concluded  that  it  would  not  be 
iong  before  the  mother  would  make  her 
appearance.  And  he  reasoned  correctly; 
for,  after  a  brief  space,  Mrs.  Arthur  en- 
tered, and  recognised  him  instantly. 

'  I  am  come  to  ask  you  a  favor,  Mrs. 
Arthur.' 


'  T  am  so  glad,  sir;  I'm  sure  I  couM 

refuye  you  nothing.' 

'  1  witth  you  to  go  to  the  castle  and  give 
this  note  to  Mrs.  Martin,  with  my  earnest 
request  that  she  will  give  it  to  her  yoking 
mistress — to  no  one  else ;  and,  us  she 
would  keep  peace  in  the  family,  that  she 
allows  it  to  get  into  no  other  hands  tlwn 
Miss  Graham  s.' 

'  I  ken  what  you  mean,  sir.  It  is  a 
lireat  pity  y(»u  did  not  <u)me  sooner— Misa 
Graham  was  here  her.'<el"  this  ufterncxto. 
She  often  looks  in  as  she  passes,  and  she 
is  fond  o'  the  bairn,  and  like  to  hear  me 
tell  about  your  kindness  to  me  on  that 
terrible  night.' 

*  Ah,  iiidetid  ! — do  you  say  so  ?  I  wish 
p  iriiculaily  to  see  her  lo-night ;  if  I  don't 
I  shall  not  have  another  opj^portunity  for  a 
long  time.' 

'  1  m  sure  she  will  come,  sir.  If  yo« 
will  jiint  vsait  one  moment  till  I  put  little 
Majjgie  to  her  bed,  I  will  go  up  just 
now  ' 

Matrgie  was  huddled  into  bed,  clothe* 
and  all ;  and  after  lispinti  her  short  devo- 
tions, a  slice  of  brea<l  was  put  into  her 
liaiide  lor  suppi-r,  and  the  curtain  slightly 
drawn  ;  and  M.iggie,  trained  to  the  ne- 
cessary obedience  ut  a  poor  woman's  child, 
considered  herself  as  disposed  of  for  the 
night. 

Mrs  Arthur  sped  to  the  castle,  and 
very  easilv  got  access  to  Mrs.  Martin,  who 
with  spectides  on  nose,  was  trying  to 
sum  up  a  pass-book. 

'  0  Mrs.  Martin,'  said  the  friendly  en- 
voy, '  Mr.  furnir  :s  outside,  and  he  want* 
you  to  give  Miss  Sarah  this  little  note. — 
If  he  does  not  gt!t  a  sight  of  her  this  night, 
he  8  lys  he  never  will.' 

'  Woman,  are  you  mad  ?  Do  you  think 
I'm  to  turn  letter-carrier'  Did  I  no  near- 
ly lose  my  place  in  Lady  Kittlebasket  s  by 
taking  a  letter  from  a  dancing-master  to 
Miss  johan,  and  then  when  she  eloped 
wi'  him  I  was  keepit  in  trouble  for  a 
month  ?  Na,  na  ;  nane  o'  your  under- 
hand wark  for  me  again  !' 

'  \\"eel,  Mrs.  Martin,  I've  aften  heard 
ye  say  that  you  wad  like  to  do  the  lad  a 
HOod  turn,  if  it  were  even  for  the  sake  of 
Oscar.' 

'  Aye,  ye're  riciht  there,  lass  ;  but,  ye 
see,  carryiiiti  letters  is  no  canny.' 

'  Weel.  Ill  send  Betsy  u[t-stair8  to  say 
that  [  want  to  speak  to  her  ;  she  left  this 
book  when  she  was  in  my  house  to-day, 
and  when  she  comes  down  I  will  gi'e  her 
the  letter  mysei'.' 

'  That  is  mair  feasible,  like.  Then  I 
needna  ken  onything  about  it.' 

Betsey  was  despatched,  and  Sarah  oame 
down  stairs. 


06 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


'  Please,  mem,'  eaid  Mrs.  Arthur,  put- 
ling  the  note  w  ithin  the  book  ;  '  this  is 
a  book  that  jou  have  left  in  our  house  to- 
day.' 

'  I  intend  it  as  a  present  to  your  little 
girl,"  replied  Samh,  who,  in  common  with 
Betsy  the  kitchen-maid,  could  not  under- 
stand certain  telegrapliic  and  mysterious 
twitchings  of  the  lace  made  by  Mrs.  Ar- 
thur, with  a  view  of  conveying  the  idea 
that  there  was  a  wheel  within  a  wheel. 
'  Take  it  baek  ag;iin,  Mrs.  Arthur.' 

'  Yes,  ma'am  ;  but  if  ye  would  put  the 
bairn  8  name  on  it — ' 

'  Oh,  certainly  ;  but  as  Martha  has 
never  gut  good  pens,  I'll  go  up  stairs  and 
do  it..  It  IB  a  pity,  however,  that  you 
should  have  come  at  this  time  of  night  for 
such  a  trifle,  when  you  know  that  I  am 
passing  your  door  so  often.' 

'  Open  it,  mem  ;  open  it  f  but  the 
whi.>.per  was  lost  on  Sarah.  '  The  letter 
ifi  iiit>iile',  Mrs.  Martin  ;  run  after  her,  or 
she  may  drop  it.' 

Mrs.  Martin  hobbled  after  the  receding 
damsel,  and  catching  her  by  the  skirt, 
said  there  was  a  note  inside  from  Mr. 
Turner,  at  which  Sarah  gave  a  low  cry. 

'  I  kent  how  it  would  be,'  said  Martha. 
*  I  never  saw  ony  thing  else  happen  in 
thae  kind  o'  things.  For  goodness  sake 
keep  quiet,  or  your  mother  may  hear.' 

The  note  bore  'E.  T.,  at  the  rustic 
bridge.  About  to  leave  the  country.' 
Sarah  was  for  running  off  as  she  was,  hut 
Marth.i  furnished  a  shawl,  and  ii  was  re- 
solved that  Mrs.  Arthur  should  accom- 
pany the  young  lady  to  the  rendezvous, 
while  Martha  should  mount  guard  at  the 
loor  communicating  with  the  garden. 
Sar?ih  recognised  the  figure  of  Edward, 
and  advanced  without  the  aid  of  escort. 
He  silently  seized  her  by  the  hand,  and 
finding  his  pressure  duly  returned,  an  in- 
dication not  to  be  despised  either  in  love 
or  Iriendship,  he  became  bold  at  once. 

'  I  liave,  said  he, '  accepted  an  appoint- 
oipnt  in  an  emigration  ship,  and  am  to 
Bail  tomorrow;  and,  as  I  migh  never 
see  you  again,  I  have  taken  the  great 
liberty  of  asking  you  to  meet  me  in  this 
way.' 

Sarah  trembled  violently,  which  formed 
a  go<jd  excuse  for  him  throwing  his  cloak 
over  her  ;  a  movement  which,  by  its  very 
familiarity,  greatly  facilitated  free  com- 
munication. 

'  I  may  have,  many  hardships  to  en- 
counter ;  but  if  I  can  only  carry  with  me 
the  conviction  that  you  take  an  interest 
In  my  efllirts  to  distinguish  myself,  and  so 
be  more  wo  thy  of  your  notice,  I  shall 
•hoerfiiUj  fsuj^  every  danger.' 
Women  nej  ?r  like  to  express  their  love 


in  80  many  worJs  ;  and  Sarah,  althoagli 
willing,  could  lu  t  make  a  formal  reply, 
but  she  conveyed  her  meaning  with  equal 
success  by  sHppingoffa  jewelled  ring,  and 
putting  it  on  one  of  Edward's  tTngers. 
The  sanguine  lover  snatched  a  burning 
kiss  ere  she  was  aware  ;  and  histoiicd 
truth  requires  that  it  should  be  added 
that,  after  this  awful  warning,  he  took 
another  with  less  rcbistance  on  her  part 
than  many  ladies  would  probably  deciu 
{irudent ;  but  let  the  censorious  only  find 
themselves  for  the  first  time  alone  with 
their  lover,  and  he  about  to  start  for  Ca- 
nada, perhaps  to  '  return  to  Lochaber  no 
more,'  and  then,  if  they  f?ave  the  heart  to 
do  it,  condemn  Sarah  Graham.  Expla- 
nations, and  protestations,  and  vows  ol 
all  kinds  were  given  and  received ;  but 
we  forbear  chronicling  them,  as  neither 
lovers'  "letters  nor  lovers'  conversations 
bear  printing.  Mrs.  Arthur  came  run- 
ning down  to  announce  that  supper  was 
about  to  be  put  on  the  table,  and  that 
the  young  lady  must  return  immediately 
for  fear  of  being  missed.  They  took  one 
more  kiss,  and  tore  themselves  aw  ay. 

Mrs.  Arthur  was  wont  long  after  to  tell 
the  story  to  her  confidential  friends. 

'  Kich  folks  just  court  the  same  as  poor 
folks,'  she  would  say.  '  Indeed,  1  never 
Saw  my  John  in  hie  daftest  days  cut  such 
a  dash  as  Mr.  Turner  ' 

Nest  morning  Edward  made  a  round  of 
his  Paulton  friends,  and  was  graciously 
received.  Molhfied  by  his  attentions  to 
her  children,  Mrs.  Fitzgil)bon  declared 
that  slie  was  sure,  from  the  very  first 
moment  that  she  had  seen  Edward  Turner, 
that  he  would  come  to  something.  An- 
thony, too,  was  gracious;  and  while  ex- 
horting Edward's  successor,  a  greasy^ 
youth  of  little  promise,  to  be  sure  to  wash 
his  hands  every  morning,  subjoined,  by  way 
of  encouragement,  that  if  he  would  pick 
up  he  would  njake  a  man  of  him,  as  he 
had  done  of  Mr.  Turner.  Anthony  was 
not  so  gracious  wlien  he  met  Edward  at 
dinner  at  Mr.  Hayes's,  to  whom  he  had 
delivered  a  letter  from  Hodges.  He  could 
bear  no  rival  near  that  throne,  and  could 
scarcely  be  consoled  with  the  reflection 
that  he  was  to  sail  that  same  evening; 
for  might  a  legacy  not  bo  left  him  as  well^ 
away  as  if  at  home  ?  Edward  also  called 
on  Ludovit  ke,  but  did  not  find  him  at 
home.  In  his  stead  he  was  received  by 
Morison,  who  treated  him  very  drily. 

'  So  you  are  going  to  be  surgeon,  aftet 
only  one  year's  study,  are  you?'  asked 
the  foster-brother. 

'Yes.' 

'  Do  you  think  that  a  sufficient  amount 
of  study  to  tamper  with  hnman  life?' 


CJIAIGALLAN  CASTLE 


*  v\  hy ,  no  ;  but  in  general  emigrant 
alups  do  not  carry  surgeons,  ami  I  had 
ioine  little  experience  iu  Doctor  Fiizgib- 
bon  8.' 

'  Ah  yes  ;  I  had  forgot.  You  cured 
the  Criigillau  brute.' 

*  Yes  ;  auTl  8om« times  other  species  of 
that  gender,  of  the  hipt'd  order,  when 
they  were  out  over  nights.' 

'  Well  if  you  have  prescribed  soda- 
water  to  me  oocasionally,  you  need  not 
be  so  touchy  !  What  is  the  name  of  your 
8i»ip '' 

*  The  Brilliant.' 

*  Who  is  tlie  master  r 

'  Birkf r  of  this  town.' 

*  What,  foiiimy  B,irki>r1  I  shall  have 
a  spoke  ill  y'>ur  wlieel,  then,  my  hoy  ! — 
(the  hitter  hfing  a  lueutal  ej;u;ulation.) 
Well,  good  bye,  Turaer.  I  ain  gUul  to 
Bee  y(»u  turn  out  so  well.  I  suppose  the 
old  woiutn,  your  mother,  will  be  getting 
proud  of  you.' 

'  I  do  not  know,'  said  Edward,  redden- 
ing. '  A  person  of  hf  r  education  would 
probably  tiiiuk  more  of  me  if  1  were  in 
BOme  more  prominent  posiii  m.* 

'  Ah  !  you  are  getting  ashamed  of  her, 
I  suppose.' 

'  No ;  she  was  to  mi^et  me  here  by  ex- 
press appointment,  before  I  sailed.' 

'  Which  appointment  you  take  care  not 
to  keep.' 

'  Mirison,  you  are  quite  insulting!  I 
certainly  should  have  been  here  some 
days  l)efore  iu  order  to  have  met  her,  but 
the  liel ay  was  owing  to  no  fiiult  of  mine.' 

'  Well,  it  is  no  matter  ;  the  affectitm 
^hat  she  should  have  showed  to  you  she 
^hrew  upon  me,  for  positively  I  li.id  more 
of  her  attention  than  was  quite  conve- 
nient.' 

'  Hold,  Morison  !  otherwise  I  may  be 
tempted  to  do  what  I  may  atterwards  be 
sorry  for.  Vou  know  that  the  care  be- 
stowed on  you  hy  my  mother  was  much 
more  than  the  pittance  pgid  by  your  uucle 
entitled  you  to,  and  it  in  unieeling  and  un- 
/     manly  to  s(ieak  to  her  sou  in  that  strain.' 

'  Pittance,  sir  !  So  long  as  my  mother 
was  living  the  allowance  waa  most  hand- 
some ;  and  knowing  that,  my  uncle  did 
not  thiuk  it  neci  es.iry  to  per|  eiuate  a  bid 
oustotu.  Besides,  did  he  not  patronise 
you? 

'  Of  me  you  may  speak  as  you  like  ; 
but  dare  again  to  speak  of  my  mother  iu 
that  tone,  and  you  shall  repent  it.' 

»  What  will  yuu  doT' 

•  What  any  uum  of  s})irit  would  do  in 
the  circumstances — kn  ic|c  v<  ii  ilown.' 

*  Do  you  think  I  would  all  iw  you  to  do 


•  Y(Hi  have  it  in  your  power  to  allow  bm 
to  make  the  experiment.' 

'Eiwards  flushed  face,  dilated  nos- 
trils, and  fl  ishinji;  eye,  showed  that  he 
was  nut  to  he  trilled  with  ;  and  although 
Morisiin  was,  of  the  two,  the  possessor  ot 
most  physical  force,  yet,  heing  of  the  bul- 
ly order,  he  quailed  before  such  an  antag- 
imist. 

'  Do  you  suppose.  Turner,'  said  he,  af- 
ter a  pause,  '  that  I  would  tight  in  a  place 
of  husincfis?  It  may  l>e  the  fishion  with 
students,  but  not  with  grown-up  people.* 
'  I  do  not  want  to  fight,"  replied  Ed- 
ward, '  and  never  fought  in  all  my  lite, 
and  well  you  know  it  from  the  many  times 
that  iu  boyhood  I  allowed  you  to  strike 
lue  with  iiupunity.  I  am  not  a  boy  now, 
and  will  not,  on  any  pret^'nce,  allow  you 
to  treat  me  otherwise  than  on  terms  of 
perfe'!t  equality.' 

'  That's  a  good  joke  !  A  laborer's  son 
equal  to  me,  a  gentleman  born.  I  tell 
you,  E  Iward,  you  may  make  old  Hodges, 
and  people  in  their  dotage,  believe  you 
clever,  hut  the  world  will  never  regard 
you  as  a  gentleman  ' 

'  I  m  perfectly  indifferent  on  that  score,' 
8  lid  Edward,  with  a  good-humored  sneer. 
'  Your  world  is  not  my  world;  and  if  I 
receive  the  approval  of  those  whom  I  es- 
teem, the  censures  of  those  who  are  your 
idols  will  not  disturb  m«  much.' 

'  And  yet,  with  all  your  philosophy,  you 
aspire  to  the  money  of  Sarah  Graham.' 

'  '  Tis  false,  sir.  I  never  aspired  to  her 
money.  It  is  one  of  tiie  misfortunes  of 
those  who  are  rich  anil  noble  at  the  same 
tiiue,  that  all  attentions  are  apt  to  l>e 
construed  into  the  love  of  pelf ;  but  Miss 
Graham  knows  that  I  prize  her  from 
higher  motives.' 

'  So  you  do  prize  her,  do  you?— and  she 
knows  it,  does  she  V 

Edward  now  saw,  when  too  late,  that 
in  his  excitement  he  had  said  too  much  ; 
hut  he  attempted  to  recover  himself. 

'  Yes,  I  repeat  that  she  knows  that  I 
prize  her  and  evtTy  young  lady  whose  po- 
sition in  society  is  above  my  own.  Dur- 
ing my  resilience  in  St  Davi  i  s,  I  had 
frequent  opportunities  of  adilressing  her; 
1)11 1  I  seorned  to  lay  myself  open  to  the 
imputation  of  heing  a  fortune-hunter,  or 
her  to  the  risk  cf  scandal  in  forming  a 
low  connexion.' 

'  It  is  well  that  you  have  given  over 
your  old  tricks;  for,  mark  me,  Edward!' 
— and  here  the  native  ferocity  of  Morison, 
hmg  kept  down  during  the  conversation, 
hnrst  out  with  volcanic  fury — '  I  have  a 
paulianl  for  Miss  Graham  myself,  and  1 
care  not  who  knows  it ;  and  be  he  high 
or   low    who  thwarts  me,  by  the  heaven 


70 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


above,  ho  shall  make  no  progress  so  lon^ 
KS  a  firoji  of  hlood  is  in  my  Ixidy.  I  care 
not  a!:h(iugh  tlic  8.)Hff)!d  w;iit  d  me  the 
first  iiioutrit  after  vengeance  !  Give  me 
but  vengeance — pve  ine  hut  to  know  the 
aaan  wh<i loves  htr,  and,  aliove  all,  whom 
she  lovea  in  her  turn,  and  his  doom  ie 
sealt-d,  although  I  should  have  to  search 
for  him  h)  hell-fiie  !' 

'  Has  Mi.>*8  Graham  ever  given  you  any 
cncourngement,  th«t  you  would  madly  do 
battle  in  ttiis  niuiderous  wayl 

'No!'  roart-d  Morison.  'She  never 
gave  me  any  encouragement ;  on  the  con- 
trary, whe  ha8  ever  riit^couraged  me.  I 
hate  her  foi  that  ;  and  I  shall  hate  those 
■whom  she  may  encourage.  Look  you. 
therefore,  well  to  yourself.  She  has  odd 
notions,  exa(;i!y  of  \  our  stamp,  and  af- 
fects to  despise  richeo  ;  hut  neither  you 
nor  she,  nor  any  created  being,  shall  de- 
spise me  with  impunity.' 

'  1  have  heard  jou  patiently,'  replied 
Edward,  '  and  I  regard  all  yovir  grimace 
as  a  mere  theatrical  trick,  .iltogeth'  r  un- 
befitting any  peruon  in  their  roher  senses. 
Oh,  you  need  not  rave  jind  foam,  or  tear 
your  passions  to  t  ittcrs.  T  shall  do  in  my 
matters  of  galhintry  precisely  as  I  tfiink 
fit;  and  if  you  will  interfere,  remember 
that  there  are  juils  and  lunatic-asylums 
for  the  obstrepenua.      Farewell.' 

'  Dog  !'  <^r>iwled  Morison,  as  he  ground 
his  teeth  in  fury. 

As  F/lward  went  out,  a  gentleman  of 
foreign  appearance  entered  the  office,  and 
familiarly  tapped  Morison  on  the  shoulder. 
The  latter  crossly  resented  the  caressing; 
but  the  stranger,  not  heeding  the  re- 
pulse, carelessly  threw  himself  into  a 
chair. 

'  What  is  your  business,  sir  ?'  asked 
Morison  in  a  churlish  tone. 

'  Ah,  good  !  very  good!  very  good  in- 
deed !  If  Mr.  Morison  does  not  know  me, 
who  should  '' 

'What,  Wainrightr 

'  'I'he  same,  my  deur  sir  !' 

'  1  did  not  expect  yi  u  so  soon.' 

*  Neither  di<f  I  expect  to  come  so  soon, 
but  a  remark  in  your  note  has  made  me 
expedite  matters ;  and  as  I  do  not  care 
about  being  known  here,  I  ptis.s  for  Mon- 
sieur Ti^urnair,  denti^t.  Visit  me  profes- 
sionally this  evening  at  the  '  Royal  Oak,'" 
and  I  shall  unfold  ms  phins  But  in  ^onr 
ear,  Morifcon.  You  ,-,re  i  ot  a  good  acct  m- 
plice  ;  you  are  too  violert  ;  all  youS'  otch- 
men  are.  You  are  p'  rfietually  after  1  ash- 
ing and  hacking  with  hro-ulsword  and 
cl  .ymore ;  whercits,  if  you  would  only 
us«  the  small  French  ra]  ier,  or  stiletto, 
you  eould  pink  \oiir  adversary  more  ef- 
leutually,  and  in  h  d'  the  time." 


'  What  do  you  mean  ?* 

'  I  mean  that  y<'u  shoulil  not  got  lata 
such  furious  pas^iol:s.' 

'  That  creature  was  my  hated  rival. 
Turner  !' 

'  All  the  more  necessity  for  your  keep- 
ing cool.  Set  ofif  policy  against  pstuls, 
aud  you  may  fight  any  man.' 


CHAPTER  XX, 


Edwakd  was  under  no  pressing  neces- 
sity to  end>ark  on  hoi.rd  the  eiiiii.rant 
ship,  but  he  was  induced  to  do  so  fir  two 
reasons  ;  first  he  could  make  no  academio 
progress  in  his  studies  during  snuuner  : 
and,  secondly,  he  could  not  Irook  the 
idea  of  being  dependent  on  Hodges  during 
the  recess.  He  calculated  <  n  bfing  liome 
in  time  for  tlie  winter  course  ;  and  the 
vo\  age,  besides  giving  him  expeii-  nee  in 
his  adopted  protession,  would  eidarge  hia 
acquaintance  with  the  world,  and  gratify 
a  passion  for  travelling  that  had  early 
been  developed.  The  owners  of  the  ves- 
sel Were  not  particular  about  the  skill 
which  they  might  obtain,  provided  ii 
oould  be  jijocured  at  a  cheap  rate.  The 
carrying  of  a  medical  officer  was  a  good 
point  in  Mdverti?ing,  and  this  was  one  of 
the  reasotis  that  induced  them  to  secure 
the  services  of  one  ;  and  E<lwar(i  suited 
the  purpose  well,  as  he  underto(>k  the 
duty  on  terms  which  might  not  have 
tempted  more  advanced  practitioners.     ^ 

The  first  day  on  board  well-nigh  satiat- 
ed Edward  of  voyaging.  Although  a  pass- 
able day  on  land  it  was  rough  aft  sea, 
there  being  an  uneasy  broken  swell, 
which  caused  considerable  lurching,  and, 
from  the  pt'sition  of  the  wind,  bade  fair 
to  denote  bad  weather.  The  emigrants 
were  almost  all  seasick  ;  and  Vieiug  but 
recently  on  board,  anp  without  arrange- 
ment of  their  storeb,  they  were  sj  rawling 
in  every  direction,  and  obstrnciing  the 
seamen  in  the  management  of  the  vessel. 
Eifward  was  sick  among  the  r<  st ,  and  the 
Bailors  made  themselves  merr^  at  the  iilea 
of  a  doctor  being  unable  to  ci.re  himtielf. 
The  confusion  was  at  irs  height  when  the 
voice  of  the  captain  was  hearil  above  the 
dashing  of  the  sea,  the  wistling  of  the 
wii  d,  and  the  cries  (»f  theeiiigrants,  male 
and  female,  adult  and  infantine.  Tom- 
my Bark>  r  was  a  little  square  Dutch-built 
man.  His  face  was  decidedly  good,  bar- 
ring a  very  heav^  under-lip ;  hut  then  hia 
neck  was  so  sliort,  his  shoulders  round, 
his  legs  bandy,  that  the  facial  Hn^ameDtif 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


n 


had  little  effect  in  modifying  the  unpre- 
possessing aspect  of  his  general  a[tp«ar- 
ance.  r.nuiny's  hat  appeared  to  rest  on 
hisshouWers/nuthis  liead  ;  pressed  down 
behind,  and  raised  unduly  btfore,  with 
thin  blick  hair  streaming  from  under- 
neath, it  was  a  perp.;tu.il  phenomenon 
that  it  did  not  hlow  off.  Uow  it  was 
Stuck  on  nobody  Itnew  ;  but  true  it  was, 
that  in  the  g-il.s  of  wind,  when  all  the 
crew  had  to  strap  down  their  north-west- 
ers with  bjw-lines,  and  even  tlien  could 
scarcely  keep  them  on,  tho  captain's  liead 
was  somehow  so  crammed  into  his  hat 
that,  blow  lii>;h,  blow  low,  there  it  stuck, 
and  stuck  so  bvmly  that  the  uiaininiiit  it- 
self was  more  likely  to  go  than  tiiat  mys- 
terious hat.  rommy'e  hat  was  an  adjuAct 
of  himself;  whether  he  used  it  as  anmht- 
cap  w.is  not  known,  but  he  was  ne?er  seen 
without  it.  When  he  wont  to  bed  the 
door  of  bis  cabjrv  \va6  bolted,  and  no  mor- 
tal message  could  make  b.iui  rise  to  undo 
the  fastening.  Blessed  with  lunjis  of 
great  volume,  he  could  converse  tiirough 
deal  boards,  or  Mumel  logs  fi  r  that  m.it- 
ter.  And,  indeed.  Tommy  rather  li-ed 
to  tal  -  with  his  offi-ers  when  they  were 
outside  and  he  in  bed  ;  for  while  ho  spoke 
with  the  voice  of  a  stentor,  and  tney  too, 
with  tolerable  h)udnee8,  he  always  pre- 
tended that  be  did  not  hear  them,  and  a 
desperate  business  it  was  to  get  a  message 
Bent  to  Captain  Tbomas  though  the  pauels 
of  the  door. 

When  not  in  bed,  Tommy  always  hent 
himself  over  the  tire,  iookingearnesily  in- 
to it  with  his  little  twinkling  coal  eves, 
^  and  occasion  illy  rubbing  his  dumpy  mut- 
ton hands.  Such  was  the  captam  who 
etood  on  the  quarter-deck  of  the  Brilhaiit, 
as,  with  outstretclied  canras,  she  was 
heaving  and  toiling  through  a  troubled 
8ea,  as  if  in  desp.iir  of  ever  reaching;  C  i- 
nada.  founny  swept  the  deck,  the  liori- 
Bon,  and  the  rigfiiL"^  with  a  frowning  look, 
and  at  length  bawled  out — 

'  Mite  a-hoy  !  Clear  the  decks  of  the 
land-lubbers,  and  put  them  under  tiie 
hatches  i' 

'  Yes,  sir.' 

*  \Vh(»  have  we  here?'  giving  the  pros- 
trate person  of  Edward  a  shove  with  his 
foot. 

'The  doctor,  sir.' 

'Doctor-fellow!'  roared  Tommy;  'I 
■ay,  you  doctor-fellow,  I  want  you  !' 

Elward,  without  well  knowing  what  he 
did,  followed  the  commander  into  his 
eftbin.  Tommy  produced  some  flour  and 
currants,  an  I,  puttin^J  them  down  b<;  or 
Ekiward,  told  him  t  >  l.ako  some  cakes, 
Vjd  to  Bet  about  jt    jmmediateiy,  as  he 


wished  them  for  supper,  and  likod  to  eat 
them  cold  witli  Iresh  butter. 

'  Who  do  you  t.ike  me  tor  .'   asked  Ed- 
ward in  perleet  amazement. 

'  flie  doctor,  to  be  sure.' 

'  xVrid  do  y<»u  think,  Cajitain,  that  it  \n 
the  doctor  «  duty  to  b.ike  c.tkes  !' 

'  The  doctor  lellow  before  you  did  so.' 

♦  But  I  will  not  do  so.' 

'  Do  you  know  who  /am?'  aakod  Tom- 
my in  his  turn. 

'  Yes,  the  captain.' 

'  Then,'  added  fommy  with  an  oatii, 
'  why  don't  you  obey  my  orders!' 

'  Because  i  came  on  board  to  attend  to 
the  sick.' 

'  tjiek !  Do  you  suppose  that  we  allow 
people  to  get  sick  on  lioard  ship  ?  I  am 
captain  lure,  and  every  man  iiiu,-»t  ol><-y 
me,  whoever  he  is,  or  whatever  1  uMy  tjid 
him  do.  Besides,  you  are  not  a  regular 
doctor,  or  if  ^ou  were  its  all  a  sham 
getting  doctors  ol  any  kind — a  liait  to 
{  catch  greeu  emigrants.  Get  tlie  cakes 
ready,  sir.' 

1  E  Iward  made  no  reply.  Tommy  went 
up  the  companioti-stairs  to  give  orders  on 
diclv,undtiie  doctor  was  h-lt  uich  hid 
,  head  le  injng  on  tiie  table  still  iieavily  op- 
pres.Ncd  with  sickiicNS.  Alter  remaining 
ill  ttiis  |>o.sture  some  time,  he  thought  the 
fresh  air  of  the  deck  would  be  in  his  fa- 
vor, and  in  an  hour  he  followed  lommy. 

'  Have  ^ou  baked  them?'  said  the  com- 
mander. 

'  No,  and  don't  intend  doing  it. 

Tommy  beckoned  to  the  carpenter,  and 
whispered — 

'  Build  up  half  a  foot  of  the  doctor  fel- 
low s  bed  at  tlie  bottom.' 

At  t\\\s  moment  a  sailor  called  Tommy's 
attention  to  a  small  craft  bearing  duwa 
upon  them,  in  the  directii^n  of  the  town, 
and  her  appearance 'attracted  general  ob- 
servation. The  hull  was  eniirt  ly  black, 
the  rigging  rakish,  and  the  whole  build  so 
slight  and  sharply  tormed  that  she  s  ■eiiied 
to  dance  upon  the  wat  r.  I'oiumy  envied 
her  the  en)(iyment  of  the  wind  that  w.is 
against  him,  and  having  satislied  himself 
ih.it  slie  was  from  Paulton,  he  sudueuly 
aaked  Edward  who  drew  his  half-pay  dui'- 
ing  the   voyag,,. 

'  My  motlier,'  was  the  reply. 

'Yact.tahoy' — yacht!  y.icht  a-hoy  I 
and  certainly  rommy  liail.d  in  gallant 
style,  but  in  v.un,  so  far  <mj  the  yacht  was 
concerned.  Nearer  inspection  showed 
oer  to  be  something  like  a  private  plea- 
.sure-bo.it ;  but  nobody  could  be  seen  on 
b  )ard  except  two  negroes,  one  of  whom, 
it  the  helm,  paid  not  the  slightest  atteU- 
lion  to  foiiim^'s  thuudenng  appeals, 
while  the  otlur.  as  if   in  derision  ot    the 


n 


CRAIGALLAX  CASTLE. 


little  man,  danced  on  dec-k  and  sung  a 
negro  fii>ii^,  with  t  .0  iiiutit  iiiimite  attt-u- 
tion  to  tlie  aiajos  tlmt  umi.iUv  accMjiipafj 
that  sptrcies  ol  vocal  lueluil^.  An  the  Yi-8- 
eels  came  ahn-ast  of  eacli  ulher,  rouiiii} 
resumed  operations  with  redoubled  en- 
ergy. 

'  Quassia  !  I  say,  black  fellow  1  1 11 
giveyiiu  five  shillirifib  to  carry  a  iijes8ai;e 
into  Piiulton  :  a  land-lubbir  htre  lias  luu- 
tinjed — 1  want  to  stup  his  home  pay,  yuu 
black  thiel !' 

The  dancing  nijrger  paid  no  further  at- 
tention to  Tun. my  8  importunity,  except 
changing  his  tune,  and  the  spectators 
were  regaled  with  a  verse  of  the  ditty 
commencing — 

*  Posfiim  up  the  gum-tree, 
Upii  no,  up  11  t^u  ! 
Rac'ioii  m  ihe  will  jw, 

Duwu  btlow,  dowu  below  !' 

Tommy  was  sadly  mortified  at  his  fail- 
nre;  and,  although  nobody  dared  to  laugh 
in  his  face,  it  was  plain  that  there  was  a 
leer  in  the  eye  of  the  whole  ship  s  com- 
pany, from  the  mate  down  to  the  cabin- 
noy.  Night  drew  on,  and  Edward  was 
shown  into  his  bed,  which  was  off  the 
stair  leading  to  the  deck.  Tlie  situation 
was  exposed,  but  thoroughly  worn  out, 
Edward  was  glad  to  tumble  into  it.  On 
trying  to  stretch  out  his  weary  limbs,  he 
found  the  length  contracted  sj  much  that 
his  leet  touched  the  bottom  most  unplea- 
santly, and  he  could  not  sleep  the  whole 
night.  Next  morning  be  compl. lined  to 
the  mate,  but  was  relerred  by  him  to  the 
captain,  as  the  redrcsser  of  all  grievances. 
Soon  after.  Tommy  sent  a  boy  to  him 
■with  a  hag  of  flour  and  the  currants,  and 
again  Edward  declined  the  office  of  chief 
baker.  At  night  he  found  his  bed  short- 
ened so  much  that  his  knees  almost  came 
in  contact  with  the  top,  and  he  saw  that 
he  was  the  victim  of  per.secution,  and  that 
the  captain  had  taken  tliis  strange  method 
of  inducing  him  to  surrender.  The  se- 
cond morning  he  got  a  hgbt,  and  with  a 
hammer  and  chisel  endeavored  to  remove 
the  obstruction  ;  but  the  carpenter  came 
to  him,  and  civilly  asked  him  to  return  his 
tools,  as  he  was  not  permittea  to  lend 
them.  Edward  then  borrowed  some  in- 
Btruments  of  one  ot  the  emigrants,  and 
anew  proceeded  to  work,  but  was  inter- 
rupted by  Tommy. 

'  Do  you  mean,'  said  he,'  to  break  up 
the  siiip  and  send  us  all  to  Davy  s  locker' 
Put  down  your  iiammer,  sir,  or  I  11  have 
you  tied  hand  and  foot  and  flung  into  the 
foi:e  hatch,  as  a  W'arning  to  the  crew 
against  mutiny.' 

*  Captain  Uarker,'  replied  Edward,  '  on 


a  point  like  this  I  obey  you,  becauge  yo« 
are  my  superior  ofticer,  and  wherever  youi 
counuands  are  at  all  reasonable  I  shall 
comply  with  them.  But  as  you  have,  in 
the  presence  of  your  men,  and  also  in  that 
of  your  pahsengers,  been  pleased  to  men- 
tion me  in  connexion  with  mutiny,  i  think 
it  right  publicly  to  declare  that  I  was  en- 
gaged as  surgeon  to  this  ve&sel,  that  the 
CMptain  has  taken  a  spite  at  me  because  I 
will  not  act  as  his  cook,  and  has  lowered 
hiuiseif  so  far  as  to  take  the  poor  revenge 
of  ma'  ing  my  lied  uninhabitable,  l^ou  all 
see  that  he  will  not  allow  me  to  alter  it. 
1  must  sleep  somewhere,  and  have  accord- 
ingly resolved  to  make  my  bed  amougs* 
the  passengers.' 

All  present  seemed  to  feel  for  Edward  ; 
and  Tommy,  somewhat  crest-fallen,  and 
without  uttering  a  word,  ran  down  to  bis 
cabin. 

The  weather  continuing  rough.  Tommy 
orden  d  down  the  hatches  on  the  poor  emi- 
grants much  oftenerthan  Edward  deemed 
safe  for  them,  and  he  determined  on 
bringing  thesuhject  above  board.  Touch- 
ing his  hat  rc-pectfully  to  Tommy,  he 
addressed  him  one  day  on  the  quarter- 
deck : — 

'  Captain,  if  you  please — ' 

'I  dont  please,"  said  Tommy,  pet- 
tishly. 

'  A  good  many  of  the  passengers  are 
ill!' 

'Well,  cure  them!  I  suppose  you 
have  plenty  ofjalap?' 

'  I  am  afraiii  they  are  ill  in  consequence 
of  the  hatches  lieing  so  often  down  ;  they 
don  t  get  enough  of  air.' 

'  And  yoa  would  let  the  hatches  be 
open  to  give  them  plenty  of  water,  would 
you^'  inquired  Tommy  with  a  sneer. 

'  1  know  there  is  a  difficulty,  captain  ; 
but  if  holes  were  pierced  in  the  hatches.' 

'  Pieree  hatches,  sir  !  are  you  nntd  T 

'  Well,  at  least  don't  put  on  the  tar* 
paulin.' 

'  I'll  put  on  what  T  like.  I  know  bet- 
ter than  you  do.  The  hatches  and  tar- 
paulin keep  them  warm.' 

*  But  consider,  sir,  there  is  no  change 
of  air.' 

'  I'll  consider  nothing  !'  and  so  ended 
the  colloquy 

Ttimiiiy  was  not  naturally  cruel,  but  he 
was  arbitrary,  and  his  ill-will  to  Edv^  ard 
might  have  made  him  go  great  lengths  ; 
but  in  insisting  on  closing  up  the  hatehea 
he  was  not  really  aware  of  the  mischief 
he  was  doing.  Better  educated  pers(m* 
than  him,  both  on  land  and  sea,  were, 
and  still  are  ignorant  of  the  danger  of 
closing  up  human  dwellings  from  a  tuis 
taken  notion  of  giving  wa-rmth  ;  but,  w^ 


CEAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


71 


■kail  uot  philosophise.  Edward  made 
himself  tolerably  at  home  among  the  emi- 
grants, who  wero  most  j^rateful  fur  his 
attenticms ;  and  he  gr<idually  became  a  fa- 
vorite among  the  crew,  although,  from 
being  sent  to  Coventry  by  Tommy,  they 
could  not  ojienly  show  him  any  sympathy. 
By-and-bye  a  dead  calm  came  on,  wliich 
lasted  several  days,  and  moat  thoroughly 
Wore  out  the  patience  of  all  on  board. — 
Other  ships  were  seen  around,  but  not 
within  hail,  and  the  same  objects  seen 
day  after  day,  made  the  time  hang  heavy, 
and  existence  its<df  to  become  wearisome. 
E<iward  busied  himsi.df  with  experimenrs 
and  reading,  ;ind  with  such  resouices  did 
not  find  liimself  sucli  a  prey  to  ennui  as 
the  rest.  Tommy,  as  usu  d,  sat  over  the 
fire,  rubbing  his  h  inds,  and  rarely  coming 
On  deck  except  to  scold. 

One  afternoon,  while  sitting  among  the 
emigrants,  K-lward  happened  to  look  at 
his  sill  ill  mirin>-  birometer,  and  louiid 
that  the  m-rcury  h  id  suddenly  fallen. 
Thinking  tliat  someacoi  lent  had  h  ippened 
to  the  instrument,  he  examined  it  att>  n- 
tively,  un  1  again  saw  the  motal  undt-rgo- 
ing  consideral)le  igitatioa,  and  at  lengt'.i 
permanently  settle  dt)wu  at  the  lowest 
figure.  Satisfied  that  this  l>eto8ened  an 
extraordinary  change  of  weather,  he  went 
on  det!k  io  order  to  communicate  his  sus- 
picions;  but  on  ascending,  appearances 
BO  much  b  died  the  prognostication  that  he 
hesitated  to  eoaimutncate  his  fears.  The 
sky  Wiis  pure  and  cloudless  ;  the  sails  hung 
loosely  on  the  masts  ;  not  a  lireath  of  air 
Stirred,  and  tio.itiug  pieces  of  wood  which 
had  been  observed  hovering  beside  the 
ship  fir  days  still  kept  their  places.  Ne- 
vertheless, Edward  knew  that  mercurial 
warnings  were  n..t  to  be  despised,  and  he 
accordingly  mentioned  the  circumstance 
to  the  Captain,  who  happened  to  be  on 
deck  at  the  time. 

'  So  you  keep  a  g^isometer,  do  you  ?' 
laid  Tommy,  who  had  a  profound  con- 
tempt for  seieutiht!  applications,  and  who 
very  likely  would  have  tabooed  the  com- 
pass itself  had  it  been  an  instrument  in- 
troduced in  his  OAn  day.  '  1  say,  mate, 
tho  doctor-fellow  says  we  are  going  to 
have  a  storm  ! — isn't  it  a  good  joke  '' 

The  mate  grinned,  and  so  diil  the  s  lil- 
ors  within  hearing.  Accustomed  to  their 
own  weather-indioators,  they  were  quite 
intolerant,  in  the  style  of  Tommy,  of  in- 
struments for  the  express  purpose. 

'  I  wish,'  ejacnl.ited  rommy,  '  tliat  we 
had  the  wind.  My  eye!  if  we  .-houM  not 
run  before  it '  llo,  there  !  up  wjth  the 
moon-rakers  and  skyxscrapers,  the  etud- 
ding-Siils  and  every  inch  of  oanvis  that 
youoaa  gdt  hglii  yf.     And,  d'^e  hear? 


fling  water  on  the  sails  to  fill  them  up 
anil  c.itch  all  the  doctvjr-fellftw's  squall  !' 
Elward  had  some  diUioulty  in  submit- 
ting to  so  much  sarcasm  ;  F>ut  he  went 
l>elow,  and  advised  tlie  emigrants  to  pre- 
pare for  the  impending  cai.istrop'ie. — 
.Vmong  them  he  was  regarded  as  an  ora- 
cle ;  and  under  his  ad\icc  and  direction 
they  commenced  lashing  fast  their  trunks 
and  appurtenaiices,  lest,  in  tlie  event  <jf  a 
hurricane,  the  rolling  of  the  ve-S'l  might 
upset  rej)ositories,  and  eitlier  break  them 
up  and  scatti-r  their  contents,  or  cause 
them  to  do  diimage  to  the  persons  of  tiie 
emigrants  themselves.  Having  made  ali 
tight  between  dec  s,  Edward  next  con- 
trived to  insert  some  bolts,  so  as  to  pre- 
vent the  hatches  liom  being  hustened 
down  too  close,  as  he  w^is  sure,  in  tho 
event  of  a  squall,  that  Tomiuy  would  re- 
sort to  his  usu.il  expedient.  All  l)eing 
now  ready,  he  went  up  to  watch  progress. 
S  tuie  of  the  more  intelligent  emi^r.inta 
accompanied  him  ;  and  as  no  percepti- 
ble change  had  yet  taken  place  in  the 
weather,  the  jeers  of  the  sulors  wero 
liuder  than  ever.  Tommy  had  heard  of 
the  preparations  made  by  the  emigrants, 
<ind  was  most  facetious  as  to  their  absur- 
dity ;  and  made  many  joK.es  about  the 
cowardice  of  laud-luhbers. 

At  length  tlie  sun  set  amongst  black 
clouds,  which  caused  the  mm  at  the  helm 
t«)  shrug  his  shoulders,  as  a  clear  Bun-set- 
ting  is  regarded  by  seamen  as  a  good 
omen  ;  th>n  a  white  swell  was  seen  rising 
in  the  distant  horizon,  a  bluish  tint  was 
d.-velop'd  in  the  atmo.spiiere,  and  an  op- 
pr  s.sive  kind  of  closeness  wis  l<lt  by  the 
on-lookers  ;  and,  to  crown  all,  the  stormy 
petrel  swept  piso  the  vessel. 

'Tore  George?'  said  the  man  at  tho 
wheel,  '  the  doctor  w.is  right?  There 
goes  one  of  Mother  Carey  s  coiekens  !' 

Tommy  did  not  like  the  indications; — 
but  his  pride  waoi  concernel,  and  he  pre- 
tended n.>t  to  be  aware  of  anything  un- 
usual. The  horizontal-crested  waves  came 
nearer,  and  heralded  the  direction  of  the 
witid,  which  the  sail.irs  thought  would 
strike  the  vessel's  starbo  ird  wide  ;  and 
they  trembled  for  the  Consequences  with 
so  much  canvas  stretched.  Hut,  as  if  to 
show  the  eccentricity  of  the  coming  storm, 
the  white  swell,  when  within  a  knot  or 
two  of  the  bro.id.side,  dr  .pped  Astern,  and 
wheeling  round  with  a  semi-circular  mo- 
tion, the  wind  cam-  upon  the  sails  and 
the  stern.  The  Brilliant  yielded  to  the 
impulse  almost  immediately,  and  plunged 
on  with  great  rapidity. 

'  Take  down  the  upper  siils   sir?'  said 
the  mate,  trying  to  prompt  Tommy. 
'  No,   sir ;    we've  wanted   wind    long 


74 


CRAIGALLAN  CASILE. 


enough  not  to  take  advantage  of  it  when 

It  COIUCS.' 

Thu  8uilurs  tliuuj^ht  Toniiiiy  mad  ;  but, 
well  dibcijiJiiudjilit^  BuiiJ  uolliiug.  Muuii- 
wliile  ilie  vt.:8vser8  taulxibbt-gau  to  groan, 
the  ujiptr  ui.ipta  lieuC  liKe  t«igs,  and  the 
htirizi'U  got  liLickcT  and  IjlucKer  ;  while 
the  buiigli  t^'l'  lUti  wiudasaumcd  thai  btead^ 
whihiliiig  Mtuiiil  vNiiich  beiokeus  prtigrcs- 
eive  increase  ol' intensity.  Toiunjy  cast  a 
niaOdening  glare  on  ilie  darkening  pros- 
pe<  t,  and  at  last  gave  the  word  to  take 
down  tiie  ujptr  canvas. 

'  Bare  poles  would  have  been  nearer  the 
thing  !'  gruwled  the  mate. 

The  wind,  however,  saved  the  trouble 
of  manual  operation  ,  lur,  smash  went 
Tomiu)  s  ri)_yal-mii8t8  tiie  moment  iIk 
men  were  ascenuing  the  rigging. 

'  Duwu  with  the  topgallant-sails,'  said 
Tommy,  now  alarmed,  •  and  clear  away 
the  broken  gear  !' 

The  men  went  up;  but,  while  in  the 
act  of  winding  up  the  topgallant  Bail,  the 
yard  was  blown  otf,  and  with  it  two  ad- 
hering men. 

'  About  ship  !'  roared  Tommy  ;  but  at 
the  rate  she  was  going,  this  was  no  ea«_) 
matter. 

However,  she  was  got  about;  and  as 
the  men  clung  to  tlie  spar,  and  were  seen 
above  the  surlace,  they  were  picked  up 
after  considerable  delay.  i'he  gale  iu- 
ereasing,  the  main-tupgallant-mast  went 
next ;  and  Tommy  now  ordered  l>are  poles, 
but  loo  late  for  his  foretop-sail,  wliicli 
Durst  Irom  tlie  blocks,  and  in  a  lew  min- 
utes was  t>[Aii  into  libbons.  Tommy  gut 
frantic  ;  tlie  putting  of  the  sliip  into  riglit 
trim  was  now  becoming  not  only  a  work 
of  danger,  but  almost  of  impossibility  — 
Still  the  men  labored  hard,  and  Tommy, 
Dow  duly  alive  to  the  danger,  took  tne 
wisest  preCiuiioiis  that  tlie  circumstances 
would  permit.  The  landsmen  were  below, 
the  sails  taken  in  so  far  as  they  were  not 
akeady  blown  out,  the  masis  struck  so  lar 
as  they  were  not  already  broken  away  , 
but  all  that  Tommy  and  his  men  could  do 
Was  but  small  in  comparison  with  the  de- 
Vaataiiou  caused  by  the  fury  of  the  ele- 
ments. Alih  ugh  generally  the  Brilliant 
answered  the  lulm,  she  was  so  much  out 
of  sorts  on  tliis  stormy  night  that  the 
Bteersman  kept  her  head  to  the  wind  with 
the  utmost  dilhculty  ;  and  as  the  wind  it- 
self did  not  sieadily  blow  from  one  p  .int, 
but  eddied  about  consi  Jerably,  the  dangi  r 
oiten  was  imminent  either  ot  ioundenng 
or  of  being  capsized  on  her  beam-enus. 
The  emigrants  below  were  kept  in  a  dread- 
ful state  of  SoSpense  ;  the  n  is'!  abuve 
them  was  loud  and  incessant,  and  the  din 
of  failing  spars,  and  the  dragging  of  chains, 


mingling  with  the  eracking  of  the  wind 
and  noise  of  the  sea,  kt^pt  up  such  an  ap- 
[lailing  Concert  of  discordance  that,  what 
with  the  restless  rolling  and  tossing,  the 
poor  victims  scarcely  knew  it'  thiy  were  on 
the  tt^p  (>(  the  water  or  the  bottom  of  the 
S(!a.  About  midnight  a  aide  hatch  was 
opened,  and  a  sailor  bailed  for  the  doctor 
to  attend  the  cnptain,  whose  head  had 
been  laid  open  by  a  tailing  block. 


CHAPTER  XXI, 

THE   TEMPTKR  AG.AIN. 

At  the  appointed  hour  Morison  went  to 
the  'Royal  Oak  Hotel,"  to  consult  Mon- 
sieur Tournairc,  the  French  dentist.  Af- 
ter examining  his  teeth,  the  artist  declar- 
ed that  '  if  de  stumps  were  remove,  his 
grande  piizzilano  would  m;.ke  Monsieur 
eat  and  speak  as  good  as  eber.' 

'  Will  it  take  long  to  do  V 

'Bah  ! — not  two  hour  of  de  night!— 
You  get  stumps  out  instantere  den  de 
puzzilano  go  in,  and  den  it  harden  ;  and 
den  to  show  that  I  not  big  villain,  you 
stop  and  take  pciil  soupe  wid  me.  Den 
you  speak  to  all  your  Iriends  that  I  good 
dentist.' 

This  arrangement  was  contrived  by 
Wainright,  in  order  that  the  penple  about 
the  iiotel  might  not  be  sui|i)iised  at  Mori- 
son  stopjiing  long  with  a  stranger  ;  and 
on  the  table  being  cleared,  and  wine  put 
down,  Wainright's  grand  ph;t  came  to  be 
unlolded. 

'  You  know,'  said  that  worthy,  'that 
you  wrote  me  ofa  grand  piirty  which  wag 
t(j  dine  at  L'raignllan  on  tJatnrdiiy  Ibrtnigbt, 
and,  among  others,  you  said  that  Day,  of 
the  Sbi})  Bank,  was  to  be  thtre.  Tbe  in- 
foriu'ition  has  brought  me  here  ;  for  th« 
little  business  thiit  I  told  you  of  is  in 
connexion  with  that  respectabh^  establish- 
ment. It  has  a  stock  of  bullion  on  hand 
by  far  too  large  lor  the  circul  ition  of  a 
sm;iU  community  like  this;  and  so ' 

'  You  intend  to  relieve  it  of  its  surplus 
rest  V 

'  Precisely  so.* 

'It  is  a  hazardous  undertaking;  and 
I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.' 

'  Ilazardijus  it  may  be  with  me,  my 
good  fellow  ;  for  if  1  get  nothing  but  nasty 
Scotch  notes,  the  payment  will  be  soon 
stopped,  and  I  shall  not  be  able  to  get 
them  changed  ;  but  with  you  it  is  a  cer- 
tain investment.  You  i-hall  I  ave  a  bun- 
ilred  sovereigns  down,  whatcTor  the  pro- 
ceeds mny  be.' 

'  1  did  not  allude  to  the  hazards  of  gaiiv 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


7» 


but  to  the  hazards  of  detection.  If  caught, 
I  would  be  ruined  tor  life,  besides  being 
hanged  or  tnmspurted.' 

'  U'hy,  AJi>ri8uii,  you  speak  like  a  com- 
mon I'oiiC  pud.' 

'  And  \ti  not  the  undertaking  of  the 
foot-pid  order  V 

'  My  dtiar  ti-ilow,  how  can  you  possibly 
allow  yourself  to  be  tlie  victim  of  sclt- 
deceptiori  ?  Your  foot-pad  ia  a  low,  vul- 
gar wretch,  wljose  m-coe^-ilied  reduce  liiiu 
from  hand  to  mouth,  and  who,  on  tlie 
starvation  of  the  moment,  clutches  at  a 
"watch  or  loaf,  having  Botany  Bay  in  per- 
spective atWrlie  time,  hut  l)ravingit  fur  the 
Bake  of  a  meal  or  a  whole  p;iir  of  trou- 
sers ;  whereas  your  a[ipro|iriator  is  a 
gentleman  of  education,  with  more  or  less 
capit.il  on  hand,  and  wlio,  accordingly, 
has  not  only  wit  to  devise  schemes,  but 
leisure  to  digest  them.' 

'  But  if  he  is  caught,  what  says  the 
law?' 

*  7/"  caught,  the  law  might  speak  to  him 
in  the  same  style  as  to  humbler  professors  ; 


these  instances  that  you  have  mentioned 
certainly  might  turn  out  ill,  if  closely  ex 
amined  ;  but  they  are  h'g  il,  and  conse- 
quently salie,  and  that  is  euougu.' 

'Safe!  why,  if  you  are  to  enter  on 
split-hair  illustrations  of  safety,  what  man 
is  sale  f )r  a  moment!  I'liis  huuse  may 
t'.iU  down  upon  us  ;  you  miy,  io  goin^ 
home,  i)e  killed  by  a  slate  tium  a  r  lof,  or 
you  may  die  in  your  bed  ;  but  would  it  bo 
wise  in  you  t<i  run  away  from  this  housf*., 
go  to  the  country  instead  of  going  through 
the-street,  ur  lor  ever  avoid  sKuping  in  a 
bed,  in  order  to  avoid  casuaiides  which 
have  a  chance  of  happening,  but  a  ciiance 
so  small  as  scarcely  to  be  within  the  verge 
of  possibility  ?' 

'  All  this  is  far-fetched.' 

'  i  know  it  is.  Now,  don't  start  in  that 
way.  I  have  been  merely  trying  you. 
Some  fellows,  now,  would  have  been  won 
over  by  half  of  my  rhetoric;  but  I  see 
that  you  cannot  be  gammoned  {aside— 
that's  telling),  and  I  sii.iU  not  attempt  to 
do  it  ajiaiu.      I  shall,  in  future,  always  be 


but  even  then  there  are  such  things  as  |  fair  and  above  board  with  a  gentleman  of 
jail-breaking,  or,  failing  that,  feeing  coun- I  your  intelligence  (that's  telling  too), 
sel.     Toe  great  security,  however,  is  to  ;  Humbug  is  thrown    away  upon  you  ;  and 


keep  out  of  the  law 

'  Aye,  but  how  to  doit?' 

'I  11  show  you  that  by-and-bye;  but 
first  let  me  clear  certain  scales  from  your 
eyes.  You  confound  men  of  science  with 
foot-pads.     Now,  think    for    a    moment 


therefore  I  shall  now  a  pUin  unvarnished 

tale  unfold.' 

'  That's  coming  nearer  the  mark.' 

'  Yes,  undoubtedly.    Look  at  this  purse, 

here  are  filty  shiners  at  one  end,  they  are 


what  would  be  the  consequence  if  you  f"i' J^'i ;  the  twenty -live  at  the  other  end 
were  to  confound  other  professions  in  f*^  ,'^'',"^J' "*° ''"'^^^^^'"g  ^^P^''^^"*-  "^^^ 
this  way.  Is  there  no  difference  between  *^"°  \  '^/''f '  *^'^*'  ^""'^'  '"^  ^''J'^.V  yourselr 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  a  ^^  ^  ^"^"^  ""^  y^^^^  ^P""  ""S^'  ^"  ^>'  '•  ^^^^^^ 
street-preacher  !  between  Sir  Henry  Hal-  I  '^^'^  =*  hundred  little  things  tnat  you  must 
ford    and  a    horse-doctor?    between    the  I  ""^'^*  •^^^'^''^'^'^ '^^°°'"^g'^''-     l>on-t  restrain 


Lord  Chancellor  and  your  uncle?  between 
George  111.  and  a  Bushman  chief?  You 
can  see  the  difference  between  these 
kimis  of  people,  and  yet  cannot  see  the 
difference  between  me  and  a  dirty  rascal 
who  hazards  bridewell  and  the  cat's- tail 
for  the  coppers  and  thimbles  in  an  apple- 
woman's  pocket !' 

'  Well,  1  see  a  difference,  but  is  it  not 
stealing  after  all,  call  it  by  what  name 
you  will  ?' 

'  Why  if  we  are  to  resolve  things  into 
their  ultimate  state,  perhaps  you  are  not 
far  wrong  ;  but  who  can  be  said  to  be 
free  from  stealing  ?  Where  did  Britain 
get  its  colonies  and  its  slaves?  Where 
did  the  Church  g>-t  its  abbeys,  priories, 
monasteries?  NV  here  tiid  our  i.obility  get 
their  land  ?  Where  do  our  statesmen  get 
their  s..larie8  ?  Where  do  our  pl.icemeu 
get  their  sinecures '  Where  did  your  uq- 
olu  get  his  acciunulatiiig  property? 

'  I  ;idmit  there  is  sometliing  m  what 
you  say  ;  but  I  am   not   couviuced.     All 


your  desire — give  it  free  vent ;  for  when 
one  habituates  himself  to  large  expendi- 
ture, it  sets  his  invention  a-going,  and 
makes  him  sharper  in  finding  tlie  sinews 
of  war.  These  fifty  pieces  now,  could 
make  you  cut  a  figure  in  a  pUice  like 
Paulton  ;  they  would  make  you  e:iteti  the 
eye  of  the  heiress  at  the  old  c  istle  up  the 
way.  Then  the  other  fifty  might  enable 
you  to  (iresent  her  with  some  trinket  that 
^  would  effectually  raise  you  in  her  esteem; 
there  is  notliing  that  catches  women,  es 
pecially  young  ones,  so  readily  as  jew- 
ellery.' 

'  But  if  I  were  seen  to  possess  money, 
it  would  excite  suspicion  ;  and  my  uncle, 
ib.ive  all  others,  is  uncommonly  jealous. 
I  li.df  think  that  he  suspects  me  f  )r  the 
three  guineas  that  I  once  spoke  of,  al- 
though 1  did  all  I  could  to  throw  him  on 
the  scent  of  the  servant  girl.' 

'  There  is  no  fear  of  your  uncle.  Blood 
is  thicker  than  water ;  and  as  to  tie  mo. 
ney,  conceal  it  well,  and  use  it  in  stuAii 


n 


CRAIQALLAN  CASTLE. 


doses,  or  put  it  into  the  bank  to  lie  until 
you  have  use  fi>r  it  on  a  larger  scale.' 

'  Thiit  would  not  do;  iti  a  j  lace  like 
this  half  the  [>('j>ulati>.n  l-now  what  the 
other  half  in  doiiig.' 

'  Well,  neiid  it  tn  some  bank  iu  St.  Da- 
vid's, or  bury  it  iu  tlie  ground.' 

'  To  he  sure,  I  could  do  either  of  these. 
How  fertile  vou  are  in  jiroviding  against 
diflBculti<-8  !  Now  I  think  of  it,  the  {mis- 
Best^ion  of  tiuch  a  sum  is  worthy  of  risk. 
Let  uie  know  your  jilans,  and  you  will  nee 
that  I  am  pr  pared  fur  a  bold  lhrov\t  of 
the  dice.' 

'  That  is  spoken  like  a  man  of  mettle, 
vrliich  I  knew  you  to  be  from  the  tirst 
moni"  nt  that  I  saw  )on.' 

The  spider  having  fully  charmed  the  fly 
into  his  meshes  proceeded  to  unluld  his 
dark  designs. 

'  You  must  know,'  resumed  Wainright, 
'  that  the  Safe  of  the  Ship  Bank  is  on  the 
ground  fluoor  in  a  small  hed-r«>om  off  tlie 
office  in  which  the  two  clerks  sL  ep.  The 
Bafe  door  is  secured  by  two  locks  and  a 
large  btjlt  which,  descending  through  the 
roof,  can  only  be  pulled  up  hy  going 
above  stairs  into  the  hed-roouj  of  Day,  the 
manager.  I  wish  you  to  pull  up  the  bolt, 
and  I  will  do  the  rest.' 

*  What !    while  Day  is  sleeping  ?' 

'  No,  while  Day  is  eating  at  Craig- 
allau.' 

'  Ah,  true.  But  how  will  you  manage 
the  two  eleri-8  V 

'That  1  expect  you  will  do.' 

'  But  how,  it  I  am  up-irtairs  V 

'  I  mean  you  must  manage  to  mnke 
them  follow  the  example  of  their  chief, 
and  ahsent  themselves  fur  some  festive 
purpose.' 

'  1  hnve  it !  By  a  curious  coincidence, 
my  apprenticeship  is  out  on  Saturday  ; 
and  as  it  is  the  custom  to  give  small  en- 
tertainments on  these  occasions,  I  have 
been  getting  hints  from  one  ol  my  fellow- 
clerks  to  that  iffect  already,  but  threw 
cold  water  on  it  as  I  grudged  the  ex- 
pense.' 

'  Resume  negotiations  immediately,  and 
grudge  no  expense  ;  the  arrangement  is 
vital  ' 

'  I  will ;  but  let  me  know  more  precise- 
ly what  I  am  to  do.' 

'  Listen  !  At  a  given  hour,  contrive  to 
leave  your  company  for  some  temporary 
yet  unsuspicious  purpose.  Meet  me  in 
the  bank  court,  and  I  will  furnish  you 
with  a  rope  1  idder  to  scale  the  hed-room 
window.  Lift  the  carpet  at  the  left-hand 
Hide  of  the  bed-ch)8et,  and  you  will  feel  a 
•mall  h  itch-way  in  the  floor  ;  raise  it,  and 
then  you  get  the  handle  of  the  bolt ;  pull 
it  up,  and  keep  it  so  till  you  hear  me  give 


a  signal ;  then  pour  in  a  phial  of  oil  te 
prevent  noise  iu  the  descent.  Return  afl 
you  came,  and  you  will  iind  me  at  the 
l)ottom  of  the  ladder  waiting  you,  and 
rrady  to  deliver  the  other  tilty  sove- 
reigns.' 

'  But  if  you  are  caught  with  the  money 
on  yuu  V 

'  Ah  !  there  i«  the  perfect  beauty  of 
my  plans !  I  have  contrived  a  mode  of 
retreat  equal  to  Xenophon  and  the  Ten 
Thousand,  or  to  JMoreau  in  the  Bhick 
Forest — a  very  master-piece  of  wit.  liark 
you  now  !  As  VVainright,  I  have  not 
heen  here  for  some  weeks  ;  as  Tournaire, 
I  leave  to-morrow  ;  on  Saturday  1  return 
as  Wainright — but  nobody  steiBg  me.' 

'  How  not  ?' 

'  Ah  !  there  is  the  escence  of  diplomacy, 
Copfieras  has  a  small  craft,  wliich  craft 
passes  as  a  gentleman's  yacht.  She  is  to 
be  in  a  creek  near  St.  David  s  ;  I  get  on 
hoard — she  lands  me  near  Craigallan  cas- 
tle in  a  small  boat,  which  is  pulled  up 
among  the  trees  till  my  return.  1  do  re- 
turn;  the  boat  is  launched — sails  out  to 
the  yacht — the  tide  suits — Copperas  lands 
me  on  the  coast  of  England,  and  hy  Mon- 
day morning  is  back  to  St.  David  s  shoot- 
injr  sea-gulls.  Tlie  robbery  of  the  hank 
will  not  be  discovered  till  Monday  morn- 
ing. The  bolt  will  be  iu  its  place,  the 
s  ife  and  door  locks  will  be  all  fast  ;  and, 
unl'-ss  Day  thinks  of  looking  at  his  notes 
ipti  Sunday,  wiiich  no  Scotch  F)anker  ever 
thinks  of  doing,  why  I  am  forever  beyond 
their  rt^ach  ;  and  as  for  you,  the  sedate 
nephew  of  jour  still  more  sedate  uncle, 
they  will  as  soon  dream  of  the  parson  of 
the  parish  as  of  you.' 

'  My  uncle,  however,  is  procurator-fis- 
cal ;  and,  as  he  often  says  himself,  give 
him  a  thread,  and  he  will  make  a  l)all — 
put  him  on  the  scent,  and  he  will  follow 
it  up  ;  nay,  let  him  get  a  cue  ten  years 
hence,  and  he  will  unfold  the  whole  mys- 
tery.' 

'  Will  he,  indeed  '  But  so  far  from  de- 
terring me,  that  only  whets  my  desire  for 
eq^terpriso  : — 

«"  I  l\ave  tha'  da'ight  which  warriors  f(«el 
In  meeting  fuemo"  woriii)  of  iheir  steel." 

Were  I  to  employ  horse  or  vehicle,  or 
trudge  on  foot,  any  dull  ass  might  track 
me  out,  but  the  ocean  leaves  no  shoe- 
marks.' 

'  W.ll,  but  what  say  you  to  the  coast- 
guard V 

'  Bah  !  two  men  guarding  fifteen  mile* 
of  coast !  Suppose  we  wanted  the  feUows, 
I  bet  you  my  hie  I  ccmld  not  find  them. 
But  come,  taks  off  your  glass,  and  let  m 


CRATGALLAN  CASTLE. 


7T 


take  a  walk  by  way  of  reconn  jitering  the 
•cene  of  operation.' 

'  1  must  not  be  beyond  twelve,  for  my 
uncle  cumt!8  home  from  the  oountry  about 
tliat  time,  and  mijjht  misa  me,'  replied 
Morison.  « 

The  amiable  pair  sallied  forth,  and  af- 
ter Several  turnings  and  wimliiigs  entered 
the  court  about  tlie  Ship  Ban^.  Cauti- 
ously proceeding  along,  VV^ainright  silent- 
ly ponited  out  the  window  where  slept 
the  unconsciouH  banker  ;  but  he  bnd 
Bcarcely  done  so,  when  he  received  a  blow 
on  the  back  of  the  head.  Morison  turn- 
ed quickly  round,  and  in  his  turn  received 
a  sm:irt  slap  in  the  face. 

'  W'e  must  lly  !'  whispered  Morison, 
quickly. 

'  No,  nothing  ot  the  kind,'  replied 
Waiiiright  ;  and  then  added  aloud,  '  Ah, 
de  gal  liab  more  lovers  than  vone  !  She 
be  coquette — de  female  vomens  the  same 
all  de  world  ober.  Jiy  gar,  this  is  not  de 
hotel  wlu-re  little  gal  sing  me  de  pretty 
Bong.     Us  in  the  box  wrong.' 

Saying  which,  they  boldly  walked  out 
of  tin;  court.  Morison  rubhing  his  face, 
insisted  that  the  omen  was  bad  ;  but  his 
more  experienced  accomplice  held  that 
they  had  been  attacked  by  a  gallant, 
otherwise  any  other  assailant  would  have 
raised  an  outcry. 

'  But  if  this  person  should  ))e  here  on 
Saturd.iyT  inaiuuitted  Morison  in  nervous 
trcpid.ition. 

'  I  shall  see  you  up  the  ladder,'  replied 
the  Kpi.ler.     '  Go  home  now.' 

And  thus  parted  for  the  night  two  ras- 
cals— one  sour  and  obstinate,  the  other 
Bul)tle  and  jielding,  but  both  destitute  of 
all  thit  elevates  and  adorns  humanity. 
They  both  were  resolved  to  give  expres- 
sion to  ami  act  out  the  dark  whisperings 
of  dr^pr.ived  hearts.  The  sinful  prompt- 
ings which  in  well-regulated  minds  would 
be  hushed,  or  rather  driven  into  obscurity, 
were  l>y  them  nursed  and  indulged  until 
they  became  ruling  passions,  and  absorb- 
ed every  other  thouglit  and  feeling.  6i;lf 
had  been  intensely  worship{)ed  by  both, 
and  for  the  gratification  of  its  consuming 
desires  no  resources  could  be  too  ample, 
and  no  hazard  to  obtain  those  resources 
too  daring. 

Wainright  walked  by  himself  to  a  cliff 
tliat  overlooked  the  sea.  The  stars,  but 
no  moon,  were  visible  ;  but  the  intermit- 
tent ll.ish  of  a  light  house  on  the  opposite 
side  threw  a  gleam  across  the  waters, 
and  arrested  by  this  phenomenon,  he  me- 
chanically watched  the  glitter  produced  on 
the  bosom  of  the  deep,  otherwise  dark  and 
motionless.  Many  solemnising  thoughts 
ttnconaciuusly  passed  through  his  mind, 


f)r  the  guiltiest  cannot  drown  reflection  ^ 
and,  alone  with  Nature  and  with  God, 
ideas  intruded  themselves  against  even 
the  will,  and  commanded  the  attention. 
The  events  of  a  life  consecrated  to  crime 
wore  rapidly  ran  over  ;  t'le  increasing  risk 
of  dt'tection,  and  the  consequent  inces 
sant  demand  on  the  brain  for  new  and  un- 
heard-of expedients  pri'Sented  themselves 
vividly  to  the  view  of  tlie  burglar,  and 
ended  in  a  resolution  that  il  this  affiir 
were  over,  anil  {>rospiTously,  he  would 
quit  the  old  world  iiliogtHher,  and  lead  a 
liie  of  spt'culation  in  xVmerica  or  some  dis- 
tant [>art  of  tlie  earth. 

'  I  am  tire<l,'  muttered  the  desperado, 
'  of  this  perpetaal  excirement,  changes  of 
drt'ss,  and  sliifting  of  nsidenee  ;  it  had  its 
ple.isures  at  first,  but  they  have  lost  their 
zi'St  by  repetition.  I  must  retire  in  sorue 
shape  or  other.  Had  I  reiuaintMl  in  my 
uncle's  bank  somewhat  1  aiger,  I  mijjht 
have  niiide  more  money  than  I  now  have. 
Many  of  my  old  assofiatis  in  the  telling- 
room  ket'p  their  t'arri.igfs.  To  be  sure,  I 
lead  a  jolly  and  tlu-v  a  staid  life,  but,  af- 
ter all,  the  quiet  fireside  hits  its  advan- 
tages ;  and  ever  since  my  first  f  irgery  the 
halter  has  been  dangling  behind  my  ear, 
and,  in  spite  of  l)ravado,  unnerving  meat 
times,  and  making  me  even  afr.iid  of  my- 
self This  bank  alfiir  sliould  turn  out 
well  (tn  Saturdiy  ;  I  know  that  the  pur- 
chase-money of  an  estate  in  the  neighbor- 
hood win  be  deposited,  and  after  P'lying 
Copperas's  share  and  the  trifle  to  young 
Morison,  I  shall  have  a  handsome  b  dance 
over.  Let  me  see.  Copperas  runs  little 
risk,  why  should  we  have  halves  ?  I  may 
as  well  secret  some  of  the  Scotch  notes 
here,  and  use  them  some  time  afterwards. 
Nobody  knows  the  business  except  this 
unmannerly  whelp,  and  I  can  keep  him 
quiet  as  being  an  accomplice.' 

As  these  thoughts  were  going  on,  ho 
received  another  blow  from  behind.  The 
seciuuO'1  loneliness  of  the  place,  and  the 
almost  impossiiiiiicy  of  any  one  coming 
near  the  edge  of  the  cliff  without  his  hear- 
ing footsteps,  fl  ished  upim  his  mind,  and 
in  the  emharrassiiient  of  the  moment  he 
fiiled  looking  roinid  on  the  instant.  Re- 
covering himself  from  his  temporary  stu- 
por, he  turntid  about,  but  nobody  was  to 
be  seen.  This  was  the  third  time  that 
his  mysterious  assailant  had  struck  him, 
and  he  was  (juite  at  a  I'SS  to  understand 
tijc  cause  or  tlie  natur.;  of  the  attacks.— 
fhat  he  was  watched  by  someone  he  had 
no  doubt,  and  by  one  who  was  skilled  in 
tracking ;  but  then  the  blows  were  man- 
ual, not  instrui!ient  il,  and  not  inflicted 
so  mucli  with  the  intention  of  causing  in- 
jury us   aunuyunce.     Still  the  ol)scunty 


7» 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


aonnected  with  the  assaults  discomposKi 
him,  and  Jie  rt-Bolved  that  l^i  fire  ♦flictin^ 
the  huiik-rolihei^,  he  kIkiuM  observe  llu 
most  (•ciujiiilous  cai.tiun.  With  suili 
reflt-clioLis  he  returiied  to  the  'Piojal 
Oak.' 

His  coiujaiiion  in  guilt  went  dtrtctly 
home,  and  tinding  that  his  uncle  had  ui>i 
returned  he  went  to  his  I'ooui,  and  (>|ifn- 
ed  hitH  wriiii^-desk,  witii  tlie  intentii-n  ul 
ghialiii};  u\ei  his  little  lioard  ol  three  gui- 
neas, and  (il  thinking  how  soon  their  nuiu 
her  wuuki  he  increased.  On  opening  the 
lid  he  thouglit  that  the  money  was  nut  in 
its  usual  jM.siti"n  but  placed  in  unotht-r 
corner,  and  thiit  the  papers  in  the  desk 
vrere  also  disurrar  ged. 

Had  his  ri'p.isitury  been  opened  by  any 
one? — almve  all,  had  liis  uncle  opened  it, 
and  set- n  itie  three  guineas!  And  did 
this  aei-dunt  h>r  the  coul  way  in  which 
Ludo\i<ki)  had  received  his  insinualiuns 
that  tlie  girl  had  been  the  thief  !  O  ci>n- 
scieiice  '  cori.-cience  !  what  cowards  dost 
thou  make  of  the  bad  !  No  one  had  open- 
ed the  desk,  neither  uncle  nor  maid  ;  it 
had  accidentally  been  tossed  Iroiu  one 
side  of  the  room  to  the  other,  and  so  its 
contents  had  been  turned  upside  down. 
But  the  lu.-tling  of  a  straw  disturbs  the 
dishonest,  and  Morison  went  to  bed  oon- 
sidera'ily  agitated.  At  first  he  was  dis- 
turbed at  the  idea  of  detectinu  in  the 
matter  ol  tt  e  three  guineas  ;  then  he  was 
bitterly  iiKirtitied  that,  for  the  sake  of  a 
paltry  sum  like  three  gunieas,  he  had  done 
Bometliirg  that  might  lead  to  the  detec- 
tion of  the  intended  enterprise,  and  frus- 
trate hi-j  expectaiinns  regarding  the  gold 
all  but  witiiin  his  gra^p.  (jiradually  he 
fell  into  a  troubled  sleep,  and  uneasy 
dreams  hilLiwed. 

'  isi>,  (h.n't  urge  me,  Wainright  !'  said 
the  un<-oiisciiius  sleeper.  '  Don  t  urge 
me  !  I  he  lisk  is  too  givat — I  canncjt  do 
it.  One,  twii.  three  !  Yes,  he  prmnised 
that  I  s^ionld  have  them  to-night,  liut  he 
forgot.  Miss  Graham,  too,  she  little 
knows,  hut  she  shall  know.  Ready, 
W.un right,  ready !  Hah  !  there  is  a 
light  ill  tile  room  ;  what  is  that?  0  mer- 
ciful Heaven  ! — what  is  itV 

There  was  a  light  indeed,  for  Ludovicko 
stood  o\er  him. 

'  Bi'y  !  said  the  uncle  grimly,  'you 
hav<.  })een  groaning  and  making  a  noise 
in  your  sleep  ;   1  thoUi^iht  you  were  ill.' 

'  1  hope  I  did  not  annoy  you  with  my 
talking,  untie  V 

♦  You  did  not  talk,'  replied  the  cunning 
uncle,  '  you  only  moaned.  But  sleep 
now,  as  1  want  to  sleep  myself,  after  ruy 
journey.' 


CHAPTER  XXn. 


-MIDNIGHT  DOINGS. 


At  length  the  eventful  Saturday  arrived 
and  the  hospitality  ol  Craig. dlaii  C'astte 
was  exhibited  on  a  scale  of  prolusion  ar>d  ■ 
luagriilicence  that  had  not  taken  place 
since  the  feudal  time.  Massive  fler\icci 
of  plate  (lid  duty  fur  the  first  time,  and 
rare  dishes  had  been  comu.issiuned  froin 
the  metr<ipolis;  while  sundry  deci-rations 
and  properties  introduced  into  the  old 
diidng-hall  completed  a  picture  of  costly 
display  hitherto  unkncjwn  in  the  annals  of 
the  district.  Ttie  htiress,  too,  canie  ia 
lor  her  share  of  admiration.  John  Gra- 
ham was  pi(ud  (/f  his  daughter,  :'iid  she 
was  duly  bejewelled  for  the  occasion; 
hut  her  decorations  tell  far  slmrt  of  tluise 
of  the  lady  of  the  mansinn,  who  literally 
glistened  with  ornaments,  and  who  more 
particularly  rejoiced  in  a  tiara  which 
might  have  done  honor  even  to  a  sultana. 
But  despite  the  show,  and  the  riches  of 
the  wines  and  viands,  there  was.  an  evi- 
dent coldness  ab(nit  the  wlmle  affur.  The 
members  of  the  Agvicultural  Society,  who 
were  the  niajoiity  of  the  guests,  could  not 
furget  the  treatment  which  tiieir  enter- 
tainer and  chainiinn  had  extended  to  their 
ex-secretary  ;  ami  there  was  a.  staid,  stiff 
pomposity  in  the  minner  of  the  hod  of 
Craig,. Han  which  intimated  pretty  dis- 
tinctly that  the  feast  was  got  U[i  more  to 
dazzle  his  guef  ts  than  to  make  them  com- 
fortable ;  more  to  impress  them  that  they 
were  dining  vsith  a  great  man  than  thiii 
they  were  to  etijuy  th(iiiselv'  s.  John  h.id 
no  finesse  at  the  head  of  his  own  table, 
any  more  than  when  presiding  at  a  pub- 
lic dinner  ;  and  his  formality  had  a  Ireea- 
ing  (  ffetjt  on  the  entertained,  who  jf.ot  in- 
to small  committees,  and  conducted  their 
eonversatio)ts  in  subdued  whispers.  Mr. 
Day,  the  banker,  v\h;)  httle  knew  the 
storm  that  was  itnpimding  over  his  head, 
was  great  on  the  constitutional  blessings 
of  the  country,  and  spoke  largely  about 
the  monarchy,  and  the  army  ancl  navy, 
and  the  funds;  hut  his  magniloquence 
produced  only  nods  of  assent,  and,  after 
several  vain  attempts  to  attract  the  com- 
pany, the  man  of- notes  gave  up  speak- 
ing. 

The  secretary,  as  he  imbibed  the  gen 
erous  wine,  began  to  get  loquacious,  and 
although  in  the  vicinity  of. the  landlord, 
did  not  hesitate  to  l>roach  topics  of  a  dan 
gerous  character. 

'  Cold  affair  this,  treasurer,'  said  he  tc 
his  neighbor.  '  Hang  me  il'  I  ever  Ba\f 
Buch  a  humdrum  company.' 

'  It  is  about  as  bad  as  the  society's  dio 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


7» 


ner,'  replied  thehrdthor  ofiB(ual.  '  Worse  ! 
there  we  Ii;ii  Grant,  who  put  mnw 
life  into  us  I  say,  now,  would  it  not 
have  been  hut  t^entk-mnnly  courtesy  il" 
Graham  had  askfd   Grant  here   to-day  V 

'  biltMire,  fiir  lieiiven  8  sake.' 

'  Fooli  !  nonsense  I — you  are  getting 
too  squtMiiii^h  ;  and  wlien  I  have  an>- 
thing  to  siy  it  must  come  out,  and  [  UKjan 
to  say  tiiis,  that  Grant  is  a  ch;vi'r  tcllow, 
and  that  he  was  an  ill-used  lidlow,  ati(i 
that  he  will  he  Ufivsides  with  Mr.  Gra- 
ham; arid,  more  thin  that,  I  siiall  he 
glad  wliiTi  tiie  lime  for  that  comes  round." 

John  Gr.iliam  he.ird  this,  hut  hiar<l  it 
us  i(  he  heard  it  not,  lor  he  had  never 
been  free  from  mysterioue  forehodinjjs 
that  he  ha(i  done  wrong  in  wantordy  mak- 
ing (iruiit  his  enemy,  and  the  casual  re- 
marks which  he  overheard  only  deepened 
Ins  misgivings  tliat  something  Wiis  im- 
pending. No  handwriting  had  yet  ap- 
peared on  thi;  wall,  hut  Helshazzar  8  ter- 
rors were  alrea  iy  d.irkening   around  him. 

The  trt-asiirer,  grating  atr.iid  of  the  lib- 
erty of  .spk-ech  a'iopted  by  the  secretary, 
moved  an  adjairnnient  to  the  drawing- 
room.  It  was  much  too  soon  for  this, 
and  John  resisted  the  movement ;  but  tiie 
addition  d  time  that  the  guests  remained 
hung  heavier  on  them  than  before,  and  to 
the  drawing-room  they  very  soon  went 
But  if  the  (linini;  hall  was  cold  the  new 
place  of  entertuinment  was  worse  ;  it  was 
below  the  freezi'iji;  point,  and  the  ])lue  and 
purple  ficcs  that  partook  of  the  moeiia 
OoiF'e  sei;med  as  it  they  were  a  serins  of 
mummv  icicles.  The  secretary  could  not 
Btand  the  (Jteenland  look  of  Mrs.  Graham 
when  he  atrempred  any  (if  his  little  repar- 
tees ;  and  determined  that  as  he  lived  in 
a  free  country  he  should  he  free  in  re  dity, 
he  boMly  w^•ut  up  to  the  lady  and  wished 
Iter  gn>d-idt;ht;  the  treasurer  followed, 
then  Hayes  the  jirocer,  then  Dr.  Anthony 
Fitzgibh  .n,  and  then  all  the  rest.  When 
he  got  on  tli(!  liwn,  the  secretary  lauglu-d 
most  imp'iMtely  loud,  then  cut  a  i-npei 
Bomething  in  the  fishion  of  an  Irish  )ig ; 
the  treahurer  t'>ok  to  his  heels,  and  luany 
were  the  gamb  ila  cut  by  the  guests  on 
their  w.ty  home. 

'  Our  wives  will  laugh  at  us  for  coming 
home  so  soon,  ro.irtid  the  secretary. 
*  What  siy  y  'U.  gentlemen,  to  a  hot  sup- 
per in  tlie  "  Koy  d  Oak?'*  ' 

*  llurrih  !' s  lid  the  auditory,  and  to 
the  •  Royal  Oak'  they  went. 

We  must  leave  the  '  Royal  Oak'  for 
the  humble  hostelry  of  Mrs.  Findlay  — 
There,  in  her  snug  hick- parlor,  sat  our 
old  friends,  Jones.  Ogle,  and  Rankin, 
with  a  stranger  clerk,  and  M orison  at  the 
bead  of  the  table.     Ogle  had  left  Gra- 


ham's office  for  an  nppftintment  in  th« 
Ship  Ijink,  and  the  str-tnger  was  his  fel- 
low-laborer in  that  estahli^hment  ;  so  that 
as  Wainrijiht  had  desired,  the  who].-  force 
was  withdrawn  from  the  hank.  Morison 
was  all  graci"usne.ss  to  his  guests,  who 
seemed  to  think  that  some  miracle  had 
been  worked  on  him 

'  I  cannot  tell  3'ou,  gentlemen,'  said  ho, 
'  how  grateful  I  feel  for  vour  presence 
here  this  evening,  and  I  am  Mure  my  un- 
cle is  grateful  too.  I  t'-M  him  what  I  in- 
tended doing,  and  he  was  so  pleased  that 
he  at  (mce  supplit.-d  me  wirli  sueh  means 
as  will  enable  me  to  give  you  a  jjood  stiff 
jollilication.  I\.:mkin,  I  own  all  that  I 
know  of  my  yirofession  to  you.  and  I  never 
shall  forget  the  pains  you  have  taken  to 
teach  me.' 

'  Don  t  mention  it,'  said  tlie  complacent 
Mr.  Rankin.  '  If  \oii  ha<l  not  had  the 
stuflF  within  you,  I  never  could  have  taught 
you.'_ 

'  \  on,  Jones,  as  the  head  of  the  most 
flourisliing  estahlishment  in  town,  1  rec- 
kon your  presi'nce  here  tins  evening  a 
very  i;reat  honor,  espeei.dly  considering 
that  I  was  only  an  apprentice  this  day  at 
twelve  o'clock.' 

'  But  not  an  ordinary  apprentice,'  said 
the  gracious  Jones  with  emphasis  ;  and, 
as  if  in  a  state  of  abstraction,  he  lifted  his 
tumbler  and  took  a  deep  dr:iujrht. 

'  You,  0;;le,  who  I  h  ive  lived  to  see  a 
teller  in  one  of  the  oldest  banks  in  the 
County,  1  reckon  your  a.c(piaintance,  in 
your  new  sphere,  a  privih'g.-. ' 

'  riie  privilege  is  mutual,'  said  Ogle, 
with  the  .lir  of  <me  who  had  said  some- 
thing decidedly  epigrammatic. 

'  .As  for  you,  Mr.  Primrose,  who  are  a 
perfect  stranger  to  me,  the  extraordinary 
countenance  that  you  have  shcjwn  me  in 
coming  here  on  an  irivitatiori  given  ver- 
bally through  my  fri-  nd,  Mr.  Ogle,  I  know 
not  how  to  s[ieak  of  it.' 

'  Mr.  Primrose  had  very  red  cheeks  and 
big  eyes,  and  ahogether  rejoiced  in  a  truly 
extraordinary  countenance  ;  but  being,  aa 
he  afterwards  intormed  Ogle,  no  speaker, 
h>!  contented  himself  with  a  htw  bow,  and 
an  extension  of  his  scarlet  cheeks  to  his 
whole  fice. 

'  [  have  just  one  source  of  regret,  gen- 
tlemen, and  th  it  is  on  accoiuit  of  the  aV>- 
8 -nee  of  Skipt  in,  the  brazier.  You  know 
his  entcrtainini>;  qualities,  and  I  should 
very  much  have  liked  that  he  had  been 
here.' 

•  I  don't  know,"  sai  1  Ogle.  '  Skipton  i« 
very  jocular,  and  wo  are  all  of  us  advano 
ing  in  position  ;  at  least,  I  feel  tiiat  when 
one  is  in  a  bank,  a  certain  degree  of  cir- 
cumspection ia  imperative.' 


N 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


'  Skipton,'  interposed  Primrose,  '  has  a 
large  deposit  account,  although  it  standi 
in  the  pttt}  -ledger  at  the  end  where  three 
namt's  are  on  the  page.' 

'  Hold,  Primrose  !  Hold,  rash  man!' 
cried  out  Ogle.  '  Would  you  so  far  forget 
yourself  as  to  break  the  sacred  seal  of  se- 
crecy that  liindsa  bank-official?  Beware, 
Bir,  of  the  great  precipice  on  which  you 
•tand  !' 

Primrose  again  blushed  like  a  boiled 
lobftor. 

'  Well,  gentlemen,'  resumed  Morison, 
'  I  intended  that  we  should  be  merry,  and 
he  is  to  be  here.' 

'  If  he  in  invited,'  replied  Ogle,  '  that 
ends  the  matter.' 

'  It  is  a  res  judicata,^  said  Rankin,  learn- 
edly ;  '  and  for  my  part,  nobody  makes  nie 
Jiiugh  so  uiucli  asSkipton,  so  by  all  means 
iot  lis  have  him.' 

'  Certainly  !'  said  everybody.  But  as 
Slorison  prepared  to  go  in  scurch  of  ti>? 
mi^sinlr  tjut-st,  everybody  insisted  that  he 
eliould  not,  and  that  they  would  go.  But 
Morison,  (or  the  reasons  that  the  reader 
knows,  would  not  give  n|)  the  enteprise  to 
any  of  them  ;  aod  promising  to  be  back 
iryio  time,  went  off  in  search  of  the  in- 
genious brazier. 

The  night  was  as  dark  as  Richard  Tur- 
pin  could  have  wished  ;  and  on  jiroeeed 
ing  to  the  cross,  Morison  found  Wainright 
waiting  for  him. 

'  Are  you  prepared  and  ready  ?'  said  the 
Bpider. 

'  No,  I  am  dreadfully  frightened,'  re- 
plied the  fly. 

'  Biih  !'  iiiiswered  the  spider.  '  I  have 
no  time  now  for  any  preaching.  Ctime 
along  i'  And  seizing  his  arm  firmly,  they 
Walked  on. 

On  entering  the  court,  Morison  remind- 
ed him  of  the  blows  received  on  tlieir  for- 
mer viwit. 

'  I  am  ready  for  that.  Stretch  fiut  your 
hand,  and  give  me  hold  of  it ;  do  tiic  same 
with  your  other  hand.  Now  touch  you 
the  house,  and  I  will  tcmch  the  wall,  and 
as  the  court  is  narrow  nobody  can  escape 
us.' 

Iland-in-hand  they  traversed  the  court, 
but  heard  noWiing. 

'  Now,  then  !'  said  Wainright. 

The  rope-ladder,  was  fixed,  and  Wain- 
right ascending,  cut  out  a  pane  of  gli;88, 
and,  undoing  the  fastening,  raised  the 
■ash  ;  and  then  coujing  down,  Morison 
mounted  in  his  turn  and  entered  the 
apartment.  With  the  aid  of  a  match  he 
discovered  the  sm^dl  hatchway  ;  but  aftei 
tearint;  his  nails  he  failed  in  lifting  it. — 
'l.'rembling  all  over  and  with  a  nervous 
persf'u-ation  dropping  from  his  forehead, 


be  took  out  his  penknife  and  tried  it  again 
He  Succeeded,  but  not  until  the  Made  was 
broken.  The  latch  raised,  the  handle  of 
the  bolt  was  then  seen  ;  he  pulled  it  up, 
but  the  sound  fell  on  his  ear  Hke  the 
kmU  of  the  final  day.  Terrified,  however, 
as  he  was,  beyond  all  measure,  he  held  it 
convulsively,  till  after  a  few  minutes, 
which  to  hira  seemed  an  age,  he  heard 
the  three  scratches  ;  he  then  drew  fbrtli 
the  phial  of  oil  and  dropped  it  down  the 
orifice.  Still  greatly  agitated,  he  groped 
his  way  to  the  window,  and  crmmencod 
his  descent ;  some  sound  ft-fl,  or  seenuHl 
to  fail,  on  his  ear,  and  he  lo^t  his  footing 
and  fell  to  tlie  jjroundvvith  some  violence. 
Recovering  himself,  he  found  his  handn 
and  lejis  considerably  bruised  ;  and  trying 
to  pull  down  the  rope-ladder  he  found  it 
had  got  entanijled,  and  this  new  embar- 
I'assment  put  him  into  a  state  of  absoluto 
despair.  Cautiously  Wainrijjht  came 
round  to  his  assistance,  and  having  loosed 
the  apparatus,  put  the  promised  bag  into 
the  hands  of  his  shivering  accompli<!e. 

'  Compose  yourself,'  said  -the  elder 
(Timiital.  '  If  you  go  do  back  to  your 
coiupany  with  your  teeth  chattering  in 
that  style  they  will  suppose  you  have 
committed  murder.  Go  home  for  a  few 
minutes.  Do  you  hear  me?  Why  do  you 
clutch  me  so  hard  ?  Let  go,  I  say  ! — 
there  is  no  time  to  be  lost.     Farewell?' 

Wainright  vanished,  and  Morison  crawl 
ed  to  his  uncle's,  and  cimtrived  to  steal 
up  stairs  to  his  bed-room  unseen.  On  ar- 
riving there  he  found  his  clothes  torn  and 
dirty,  and  his  face  and  hands  cut.  Hur- 
riedly arranging  his  toilet,  he  went  up  a 
ladder  which  led  to  the  roof  of  the  house. 
TaUinu;  the  ill-gotten  gold  from  his  bosom, 
he  hid  it  in  a  recess  between  the  wood 
and  the  slates,  pushing  it  as  far  back  as 
ids  arm  could  reach,  lie  then  went  soft- 
ly down  stairs,  and  proceeded  to  Skipton'i 
shop,  but  found  it  shut ;  and  as  that  wor- 
thy lived  in  his  back  shop,  he  concluded 
that  all  farther  search  for  liim  was  unne- 
cessary. On  rejoining  his  guests  he  tried 
to  assume  quietude  of  demeanor  ;  but  his 
excited  appearance  was  too  marked  to  es- 
cape notice,  and  all  eagerly  inouired  what 
had  ha{)pened.  Swallowing  u  large  glacd 
of  raw  spirits,  Morison  got  uiore  compos- 
ed, and  told  hia  story. 

'  If  I  don't  raise  an  action  against  that 
sneaking  leech,  Fitzgibbon,  c  ill  rae  cut- 
purse  !  The  fell(jw  has  been  making 
some  repairs  on  his  shop,  atid  he  has  ne-5- 
ther  inclosed  nor  lighted  the  rubbish. 
Seeing  somebody  that  looked  very  like 
Skipton,  I  ran  hastily  along  the  street, 
and  lell,  all-fours,  among  lime  and  stones 
and  discovering  by  the  next  lamp  that  uj 


CRAIG  ALL  AN  CASTLE. 


8] 


clothes  were  a  good  deal  destroyed,  an(i 
feelini^  my  hands  ;inl  knees  sore,  I  went 
home  to  |..ut  luyst-lttu rights  he('i,rt;  coiuirij^ 
here.  Bui  if  I  don't  mak«  FitZf;il)'>(n  [my 
Tm  a  Diitehm  la  !  And  after  all,  I  have 
not  };t>t,  Skipton,  the  liuuihug  !  Hand  me 
the  bi.tile,  Ogle;  1  declare  I  feel  myself 
chilled  all  <.v.r.' 

'  We  were  out,'  said  Ogle  ;  'and  thought 
it  an  uiicouimonly  close  night." 

'  Well,  it  is  i^erhaps  the  fright  that  I 
h«ve  got  (ienilemen,  here  is  all  your 
good  healths,'  and  he  drank  off  another 
larg<i  potitti  n. 

At  this  8ta>);e  of  proceedings  a  message 
came  I'rom  Ludovicko,  demanding  the  im- 
mediate presence  of  his  nephew.  Morisun 
turned  deadly  pale. 

'  I  say,  Kanliiii,'  said  the  guilt-otruck 
young  mm,  '  jou  go.  My  uncle  would 
raise  a  noise  if  he  saw  me  in  this  state. 
You  know  his  way.  Besides,  I  feel  the 
Btuffiii  my  head,  and  could  he  of  no  use. 
Go! — fir  he.iven's  sake  go  !— do,  like  a 
good  fellow.' 

Rankin  went,  but  shortly  after  returned, 
and  said  that  nol)odv  but  Morison  would 
do. 

'  Do  you  know  what  he  wants  V  asked 
Morisun  in  an  agitated  tone. 

'  N()  ;  hut  whatever  it  is  he  is  in  a  con- 
founded rage.' 

Moiison  called  for  a  basin  and  cold 
water,  and  having  bathed  his  burning 
temples  in  the  pure  element  proceeded  to 
his  uneli;  8,  like  a  malefictur  about  to  be 
taken  to  the  place  of  execution.  Ogle 
ami  Piimrose  went  to  the  bank,  and  for- 
tunately were  home  long  before  the  mana- 
ger, Mr.  Day,  who  m  nie  hi's  appearance 
8o  redolent  ot'the  hot  supper  of  the  secre- 
tary that  he  entirely  fiiled  to  perceive 
that  the  teller  and  accountant  had  been 
supping  out  as  well  as  himself. 

'  Have  vi>u  examined  the  safe,  Mr. 
Ogle?'  said' Mr.  Day. 

'  Yes,  sir,'  said  that  gentleman  with 
some  hesitation. 

'Minutely?'  asked  Mr.  Day. 

'  No,  I  cannot  say  that.' 

'  No,  sir !     How  did  you  examine  it  V 

*1  looked  at  the  door.' 

'  But  not  the  locks  !  As  the  manager 
of  the  Ship  Bank,  I  say  you  have  been  re- 
miss, Mr.  Ogle.  Get  me  a  candle,  sir,  if 
-jou  please  ' 

'  All  rigVit  you  see,  sir,'  said  Mr. 
Ogle. 

'  Yes,  sir  ;  but  then  I  have  the  satis- 
faction ofknovvnig  it,  whicli  is  everything 
to  a  man  in  my  res[)on8ible  situation.' 

And  so  the  man  ij^er  and  his  assistant* 
went  to  bed,  and  sh-pt  soundly,  and  th  -y 
did  the  same  on  Sunday  night;   but  tiiey 


did  not  do  the  same  on  the  night  of  Mon- 
day, fir  then  a  voice  told  Ihem  to  sleep 
no  more,  and  a  tiling  hud  been  lione  which 
murdered  their  sleep  for  many  weeks 
after. 

Walnrigiit  glided  out  of  town,  and  caino 
up.>n  Coppenis  stutding  below  the  VeTV 
tree  where,  on  a  holit^r  errund,  Arthur 
the  sailor  s  wile  n'ad  stood  on  the  evening 
oi'  the  storm 

'  We  have  miscalculated  the  tide,'  aaid 
that  worthy,  •  and  there  iire  peoph^  going 
about.  We  must  wait  till  it  [lows  a  lit- 
tle before  we  can  Qoat  the  iioat.' 

'  That's  unluiji-y,  said  Wainn^lit,  '  as 
there  is  always  risk  in  delay,  li  iwt'Ver,  I 
have  another  ]•  lb  in  view.  1  11  conceal  the 
ba^s  behind  ttns  fence  ;  they  will  l»e  bet- 
ter there  than  with  you,  fa-  you  have  an 
odd  trick  of  handling  spoil  before  it  is  di- 
vided.' 

*  I'm  not  alone  in  that,'  retorted  the 
captain  gr.uffly. 

'  Well,  supposing  you  are  not,  don't 
talk  so  loud.  Codie  with  me,  there  is  a 
great  entertainnirnt  to  night  up  at  the 
old  castle  If  you  bear  a  liand  qui(-kly, 
we  may  get  off  with  some  of  the  {ilate 
without  mu(;h  trouble.  There's  a  good 
deal  of  it  gold,  my  old  friend  !' 

'  ilow  shall  we  mana>;e  ^* 

'  Why,  1  U  go  up  the  avenue  by  myself, 
and  you  will  keep  outside  tid  I  come.' 

'  Ah,  the  old  way — ^you  in,  and  me 
out.' 

You  suspicious  wiiale,  how  can  it  be 
done  otherwise'  I  mi^ht  pass  for  one  of 
the  company,  while  you,  with  your  glazed 
hat,  would  be  stopped  at  the  porter's 
lodge  in  a  moiaenc.  Are  you  to  go  in  a 
reasonuMo  way  ?     Y^os  or  no.' 

'  Come  aloHg.' 

The  honest  couple  then  I>etonk  them- 
selves to  the  castle;  and  Wainri.i;ht 
Walked  up  tlie  avenue,  while  Copperas 
rem.iined  outside,  as  arrat\ged.  \Vain- 
ri^iht,  who  appeared  to  Unow  the  premi- 
ses well,  waited  round  about,  and  peered 
in  at  the  lighted  windows  ;  but  seeitig  do- 
mestics in  the  dilf  rent  places,  or  not 
judging  circumstances  to  bo  favorable,  he 
refraiued  from  m. iking  any  attempts  to 
enter.  At  length,  alter  alon;;  survey,  he 
wont  to  a  pantry  window,  remained  for  a 
minute  or  two,  and  returned  ;  and  was 
in  the  act  of  lilV.iug  another  window,  when 
his  old  assailant  struck  him  in  tlie  old 
pl.ice.  Quick  as  lightn'uig  Wainrigot 
turned  rouiid,  and  s  tw  a  man  coolly  stand- 
ing lief  ire  liiiu.  lie  aime<l  a  blow  at  him 
with  all  his  might  ;  the  stranger  slightly 
turned  aside  and  evaded  it,  but  iu  return 
cau\e  down  on  Waiuright  with  a  force  liko 
,4  fore-hammer. 


C2 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


'  Ass  :'  8aM  CiipperaB.  who,  iinfiafierit 
it  titt-  dfliiy.  h:td  route  up  to  the  cattle, 
jnd  ifC"giiiHt;d  liis  L-iiuip:iiiioii  Ivinj^on  tlie 
ground.  '  I  thought  .soujett  rrig  of  this 
kind  «oijl<i  happen.  Dnn't  groan  iti  that 
Vw-aj  and  alarm  tin;  peojila.  Come  along. 
Have  jou  ft>t  anything!" 

'  Did  yen  strike  the  rascal  !'  asktd 
V\'"ainiiglit,  feebly. 

'JN'o  ;  I  did  not  in  the  dark  knovr  which 
vas  which.  Come  awiiy,  will  ^ou?  Hang 
the  niggt-r.  he  can't  walk  !  It  it  were  not 
for  your  prti'-iching,  I  would  leave  jou.' 

ti'iving  which    last  mentally,  Ceipperas 


CHAPTER  XXHI. 


LUDOVICKO  S   TRIUMH. 


On  the  Sunday  evening  succeeding  the 
Saturdiiy,  the  events  of  which  were  nar- 
rated in  lust  chapter,  sat  Mr.  and  Mrs 
Grahijm  in  their  summer  park»r  in  Craig- 
allan  Castle.  The  day  had  been  one  ol 
Burpjicsiiig  heauty,  and  the  evening  was 
ill  ketping  with  it.  The  setting  sun 
tinged  tlie  distant  hills  with  gold,  the 
trees  sliook  gently  in  the  evening  bn  ezc, 
whii;h  w'ai'ted  the  perfuiues  of  a  tiiousand 
flowers  to  the  castle  windows,  and  the 
low  of  distJiiit  kitie  mingled  h.irmoniousl\ 
with  the  solt  huh))iing  of  ttie  little  river 
at  the  foot  of  tlie  garden.  '  All  the  air 
a  solt  lun  stillness  held,'  and  '  all  save  the 


'  If  they  will  allow  us,  my  dee?.' 

'  Allov?    us,    JMr.  Graham!      What  in 

mean,  Mr.  Graham?' 

'  I  have  no   inclination   for   discussion, 

my  dear  ;  so  we  will  let  it  pass.' 

*  Oh,  as  you  pUase,  sir:  but  I  alvraya 
tliought  jon  had  low  ninions.' 

John  replied  not,  and  agon  they  aank 
into  t!u;ir  respective  reveries,  which  re- 
mained undisturbed  until  a  figure  wan 
seen  ascenditig  the  avenue. 

'  Who  is  this,  Mr.  Graham?'  said  tho 
lady. 

John  adjusted  his  gold  eye-gliss,  and 
pronounced  the  intruder  to  be  Grant  tho 
writer. 

'Marry,  come  up!'  continued  Mrs 
Graham.  '  Touch  the  hell,  eir,  if  you 
lilease.  Humphrey,  tell  that  person 
coming  up  to  the  door  that  we  are  not  at 
home.  Matters  are  cnie  to  a  tiac  pass 
when  such  »8  lie  call  of  a  Sunday.' 

The  door-bell  rang  ;  :u3d,  and,  in  the 
belief  that  after  Humphrey  d«  livwed  his 
message  Ludovicko  would  be  S' 'en  retreat- 
ing in  lull  leather,  njad.mi  cast  diagonal 
glances  in  th^  expectation  of  speedily  be-» 
holding  this  interesting  movement  ;  but 
to  her  surprise  the  door  of  the  parlor 
opfued,  and  Ludovicko  wal  ed  in,  the 
Very  personification  of  coolness. 

*  1  debired  the  servant,  sir,  to  inform 
you  that  we  were  not  at  home,'  said  the 
lady,  in  towering  wrath. 

'  And  the  servant,  madam,  duly  deliv 
ered  the  message  ;  but,  seeing  )our  hus- 
band   at    the    window,  I  thought  fit  ta 


spirit  of  iijun  was  divii.e.'     The  reminis 

ceiiccs  ot  last  night's  entertainment  were    disregard  it. 

not  pleasant,  hut  neither  spoke  of  it ;  for       '  Oh,  of  course,  you  would — ignorant, 

both  were  consci(JU8  of    shortcomings    in  |  no  doubt,  as   to    the  proper  meaning  of 


the  conducting  of  such  matters,  and  both 
were  of  natures  so  proud  and  sullen  to  sit 
down  (jnieily  and  dissect  their  doings  with 
a  view  til  future  amendment.  S.irah  was 
out  visiting  a  sick  cottager  ;  and  though 
her  pn-sciice  at  an  earli.  r  stage  of  the 
evening  h;)d  appeared  to  operate  as  a  bar 
confidcnii.il intercourse,  yet,  now  that  she 
bad  kit,  her  parents  did  not  appear  in- 
clined to  profit  by  her  absence,  and  the 
«cene  hi.rc  every  appearance  of  dwindling 
down  into  one  of  those  silent  interviews 
so  often  exhibited  it>  married  life  of  a 
given  description.  After  a  hitig  [lause, 
the  lady  of  tfie  house  at  last  opened  tht- 
conversation. 

'  1  rather  think,'  said  she,  '  tha,t  we 
we  must  have  no  more  of  these  town 
canaille.' 

'  1  think  not,  my  dear.' 

*  They  are  so  vulgar.' 

'  And  so  impertinent,  too.' 

•  W  e  must  throw  ourselves  more  on  the 
Montj  people,  Mr.  Graham.' 


such  a  phrase  as  "  not  at  home."  ' 

*  1  believe,  madam,'  rej)lid  Ludovicko, 
taking  a  chair  with  gre;;t  deliberation, 
'  that  I  fully  understand  the  import  of  the 
phrase  ;  hut,  as  niy  business  is  urgent,  1 
did  not  choose  to  incur  any  del.iy.' 

'  But  certainly,  Mr.  Grant.'  said  John, 
with  dignity,  '  you  will  allow  that  people 
should  be  allowed  their  own  time  for 
transacting  business  ;  and,  considering 
the  day  and  the  abruptness,  I  must  say 
your  intrusion  is  extraordinary.' 

'  This  comes,'  answered  Ludovicko, 
'ofh'niency.  My  business  should  have 
been  doi.e  yesterday.  I  spared  you  on 
account  of  your  grand  party;  and  now, 
when  I  come  to-day,  I  hear  side-wiad  re- 
flections on  propriety  from  people  who  ate 
too  fashionable  to  go  to  church  regu- 
larly.' 

'  InsufTcrable  impudence !'  said  the  lady 
'  I  suppose,  sir,  jou  don't  imagine  that 
this  house  is  our  own  V 

'  Indeed,  ma'am,  I  haye  .consideralde 


cr.vigalla;^  castle. 


83 


ionbte  if  it  be  I'  answered  the  lawyer, 
drily. 

lii-*  look  towards  John  on  mikinr»  this 
rejotriiLr  w;i,i  nf  the  old  rattlent^tke  de- 
Bt-ripi  «M,  Jind  forthwith  Jnhti  8  joints  ffjl 
a  tn-MihMiig.  and  a  Hurt  of  paralytic  inflii- 
enct!  (Mine  over  him.  Siimmoiiinj^  epeeoti, 
be  rt  q  ledtod  Mrs.  (jrahaiu  to  leave  the 
jvpajtiiient  r>r  a  f>nv  minutfa,  in  order 
thit  the  hiisiufss.  whatever  it  waa.iiii^ht 
be  (lirtrurtrtbd.  Lu'iovicko,  however,  stared 
that  there  was  no  occasion  for  her  depar- 
ture, as  he  h.id  no  s^'crets  to  coimiiuni- 
cute,  nr,  at  all  events,  nothirij^  tliat  could 
or  w  Mij.l  bj  a  secret  long.  fhe  ladj.too, 
declir-d  tliat  she  wctuld  not  le  ive  tlie 
foniu  '"''r  a  Hottentot ;  and  poor  John. 
fore.-<eeing  itiat  n-i  kind  of  business  could 
be  aiuiciJilj  adjusted  in  her  presence,  de- 
sired Ludoviek'i  to  f  iliow  him  into  the  li- 
brary, whithi T  lights  were  ordered. 

'N>iw,  Slid  Jilin,  'you  have  come 
here  with  b.id  news.' 

'  Kitlier  in  that  way,'  answered  Ludo- 
.Vickii  l.ieurueiUy. 

'   f'-ll  me  tlie  worst  at  once.' 
'  \Vfli,  then  your  brother  left  a  icill!' 
J.nn  sai.k  down  oa  a  chair,  and  ga8[ied 
hard  fir  breath. 

'  U'liy  was  it  not  produced  sooner?' 
'  lie    delivered    it    to  me    in  a  sealed 
packet,  witb    dire(uiiin3    trntside    that  it 
should  not  be  openc-l  for  six  yars"' 


op. 

'  And  yet  y"u,  knowinsi  its  contents, 
have  illowed  me  to  he  in  this  po.sition  lor 
eixye.irs  ! — God  loriiive  you^'' 

'  I  WIS  not  bound  to  know  the  contents 
of  a  se  led  p.icket  put  into  my  hands  by 
a  client.' 

'  What  could  be  my  brother's  object  for 

such  Ji   lielli,Hll  dec.-ptinn  f' 

''L'o  do,  probably,  what  most  people 
who  kno.v  you  wouli  do — puui.^h  yni  in 
a  iieiv  ari'l  unheard-of  way. 

'  I) 'i\'t  insult  nie.  sir!  I  believe  the 
story  i>  a  lyiu^r  invention  of  your  own.  I 
have  possession,  and  aety  you  to  ptit  me 
out.' 

*  Pos.^ession  !  pooh,  that  is  a  small  mat- 
ter. I  was  lately  left  a  small  estate  by 
an  un('le.  lie  had  not  propnrly  served 
him.s- IC  heir.  A  canal  was  driven  thron^li 
it,  ami  I  have  not  ^ot  one  farthin:;  of 
c«»inp'-nsation.  It  1,  an  experienced  law- 
yer, h.ive  been  thus  done,  how  can  you, 
who  never  took  a  single  Icjcal  step,  expei-t 
to  be  able  to  maintain  your  exalted  posi- 
tion !" 

'  I  shall  take  other  advice  than  yours, 
sir  ;  and  you  know  I  have  means  loi1etet»d 
tny  rights,  an  i  to  break  tiirou^b  a  trum- 
pery will  froduced  at  this  time  of  day.' 

'We  shall  see!'  rejoined  Ludovicko, 
with  provoking  coolness.     'And  as  to  ad- 


vice, you  may  take  the  Lord  Advocate's, 
it'  yoa  think  pro[ier.  only  take  this  along 
with  you  as  to  means,  th.it  I  have  only  to 
lift  m.  little  finger,  arid  your  wli.ile  rents 
and  moneys  are  arrested,  and  you  and 
your  I'amily  quit  this  place  till  toe  q  les- 
ti-n  is  S'ttied  at  law.  Where  will  your 
means  I^hs  then'  N.iy,  more,  you  are  lia- 
ble to  the  heir  for  all  the  rents  y-iu  hive 
dr.iwn  sirice  you  came  into  possession; 
and  if  that  be  itibisted  on,  you  m.iy,  at 
tiis  pleasure,  lie  in  jiil  until  you  rot,  or 
niy  the  amount  witn  interest  up  to  the 
very  d.iy  that  you  were  ej-cted,  which 
litter  alternative.  j<idgin(i  from  your  old 
habits,  V'lU  are  not  likely  to  do  till  dooms- 
day. Trumpery  will,  indeed  !  I  drew 
the  will  witti  my  own  h.md  ;  and  I  am 
not  in  the  habit  of  allowing  anyt'iing  of 
a  trumpery  character  to  pyas  through  my 
lingers.^ 

John's  face  turned  livid  during  the 
enuniia'ion  of  these  terrible  wt.rds  ;  and, 
as  his  eyes  rolled  in  frenzy,  it  seemed 
doubtful  whether  resison  or  lilie  would  tirat 
des' rl  him.  He  raised  his  knees  to  his 
chill,  shru^rged  up  his  shoulders,  ai.d  bit 
his  nails  hke  a  maniac,  all  the  while  ut- 
tering iiotiiinghulexelam.itions  for  mercy, 
expressed  in  the  most  childish  tone. 

•  M'-rey,  mercy  ! — help!  save  I'  cried 
the  distracted  man. 

Ludovicko's  hour  of  triumjih  Wiia  now 
Come,  and  he  looked  at  him  calm'y  and 
St  iiiiily.  No  chuckle  or  Lu^h  was  on 
his  face  ;  but  the  satanic  eye  was  tliere, 
and  sermed  to  pierce  his  victim  through 
and  through. 

'  Good  Mr  Grant,  don't  look  at  me  ! — 
don't  look  at  me,  if  you  please  !^-doQ*t 
look  I     M^'rcy,  mercy  !' 

'  lie  c.ilm,  sir.  I  came  here  to  do  busi- 
ness with  you,  not  to  hear  you  bl  jhher 
like  a  bchool-boy.  When  you  can  talk 
rationally  I  shall  resume  tne  conversa- 
tion.' 

J  >hn  paced  up  and  down  tho  room  and 
i:ra<lually  came  round,  Ludovicko,  in  the 
interim,  reading  a  newsnaper.  Ttiis,  more 
than  anything  else,  tended  to  restore  the 
halanceof  John's  mind,  as  he  felt  ash.imed 
at  his  excitement  when  contrasted  with 
Grant's  irritating  nonchalance. 

'  Who  is  the  will  iu  favor  of  ?'  asked 
John,  sharply. 

'  His  son.' 

'  It  must  be  false  !  lie  never  had  a 
son.' 

'  Not,  perhaps,  that  you  know  of ;  but 
he  was  privately  m  irried,  a:jd  had  a  son 
to  my  certain  knowledge.' 

'  '  fis  f  ilse,  I  say  I  It  must  have  been 
a  low  intrigue  ;  and  there  can  be  no  ohi^ 
of  his  who  has  legal  claim.' 


S4 


CRATGALLAN  CASTLE. 


'  Softly.  He  married  my  cousin,  and 
In  my  own  presence  ;  and  I  myst^lf  dic- 
tated the  ni;trri:ige-oertifioate,  und  saw 
the  ()ffi<.-iiitiiig  clerfiyuian  eign  it.' 

Again  John  trembled  trom  head  to 
foot. 

'  But  for  fear  that  there  should  be  any 
mistake  nn  ^his  8Cure,  I  drew  (.)ut  the  will 
thus — hear  the  elause  as  I  read  it  fruiu 
thi-  document:  "I  give  and  bequeath  uiy 
■whole  property,  real  and  personal,  to 
William  Murison  Graham,  my  son,  or  my 
roputt-d  son,  or  the  son  of  JSlary  ^lorison, 
my  wife,  or  my  reputed  wife."  I  think 
the  ti-riu  is  pretty  close,  and  no  room  for 
litigation  ;  hut  if  you  think  otherwise,  Mr. 
Grnham,  try — try  !" 

'  AVhere  is  this  Morison  that  you  speak 
of?' 

'  In  my  office,  where  he  has  been  for 
the  last  six  years.  I  bound  him  for  that 
period  ;  and  hio  apprentisesliip  expired  on 
Saturday,  the  very  day  that  I  was  enti- 
tled to  open  the  will.  And  truly  a  good 
inheritance  the  young  la  in  will  have  ;  he 
will  nevt-r  need  to  work  so  hard  as  his  re- 
puted uncle  has  none.' 

'  Is  that  the  will  you  have  got  in  your 
hand  ? 
'  Yea.' 

*  Show  it  CO  me,  if  you  please.' 
Lu'iovicko  handed  him  the  paper,  and 
John  clutching  it  like  a  tiger,  made  a  des- 
perate f  ff 'rt  to  tear  it;  hut  l^eiag  folded 
up,  lie  filled  in  the  attempt.  Gnashing 
his  teeth  in  fury,  he  renewed  his  manipu- 
lations, exclaiming — 

'  If  I  tear  this  accursed  thing  to  pieces, 
as  I  will  do,  although  you  should  pluck 
my  heart  8  blood  from  me,  where  will  you 
and  your  infernal  nephew  or  cousin  be 
then'      lla!   ha!' 

'  Where  we  were  before.  Don't  give 
yourst-lf  uanecessary  uneasiness,  that  is 
only  a  copy.  The  original  lies  in  my  safe, 
written  on  durable  yiarchment.  And  even 
supposing  that  you  dest,royf;d  it,  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  a  register-office.  Do  you 
really  tiiink  that  I  am  such  a  fool  as  to 
beard  a  lion  in  his  den  without  using  every 
precaution  beforehand ?' 

'  You  forget,  sir,  there   is  one  precau- 
tion you  have  not  taken.' 
'  What  is  it,  pray  V 

'Your  own  liie?'  Look  at  me  much 
more  with  those  mocking  eyes  of  yours, 
and  by  liim  who  made  me  you  shall  not 
leave  this  place  alive  !  You  have  made 
me  a  desperate  man,  and  your  blood  be 
upon  your  ewn  head.' 

Luriovicko  was  hardly  prepared  for  this  ; 
but  his  habitual  composure  did  not  for 
take  him,  and  he  scrupled  not  to  lie  for 
the  nonce. 


'  Even  there,' said  the  wily  scnTener, 
'  I  have  been  beforehand  with  you.  1  left 
on  my  desk  a  memorandum  of  my  exit; 
and  if  any  violence  be  used  you  will  be 
ihe  first  to  repent  of  it.' 

Again  Ludovieko  fixed  bis  fascinating 
look  <.n  John,  and  again  John  sunk  under 
its  deadly  influence.  A  long  pause  en- 
sued, which  was  eventually  broken  by  the 
writer. 

'  I  think,'  said  that  worthy,  '  that 
have  viry  clearly  shown  you  your  stale- 
that  you  are  thoroughly  in  m^  power, 
that  the  meshes  are  conipUtely  around 
you,  and  that  there  is  not  so  much  as  a 
maggot-hole  by  which  you  can  by  the 
barest  possibihty  escape.  What  sa>  ytm? 
do  you  capituhite,  give  in  at  once,  or  die 


game?' 

John  returned  no  answer,  and  there 
was  another  pause. 

'  Am  I  to  wait  all  night  for  your  de- 
cision V 

Still  no  reply.  At  length  John  rose, 
and  coining  forward  to  Ludovic^o  asked 
him  if  young  Morison  knew  about  the  will 
or  its  contents. 

'  Not  a  word,'  replied  Ludovicko.  'In 
fact,  between  jou  and  me,  his  demeant)r 
has  not  been  as  correct  as  1  could  have 
wished  it;  for  the  prospect  of  so  much 
wealth  would  have  lairly  turned  his  head, 
and  made  him  quite  unmanageable.' 

'  Is  there  an}-  way  of  his  finding  out  the 
will  without  your  telling  him?' 
'  None  whatever.' 

'  Well,  then — '  said  John,  stopping 
short. 

'  What  then  V  asked  Grant,  abruptly. 
'  Could  }ou  and  I  not — ' 
'What?' 

'  Could  we  not  compromise  between 
us?' 

'Of  course!  Is  not  that  what  I  came 
here  for  ? ' 

•  John  stared.  Roguery  in  his  own  mind 
sprang  up  with  a  struggle,  was  expressed 
by  his  lip.-^  with  a  greater  effort ;  and  now, 
when  Gratit  so  fr.inkly  agreed  to  become 
his  accomplice  in  fraud,  he  felt  strange 
misgivings  as  to  the  impolicy  and  danger 
of  any  evil  paction  with  such  an  actMim- 
plished  villain.  The  candles  had  well- 
nigh  burnt  to  their  sockets  during  the  in- 
terview, and  the  library  being  Img  and 
narrow,  tht  y  barely  made  darkness  visi 
ble  ;  and  John's  fears  magTiified  the  dim- 
nees  of  the  apartment  into  a  species  of 
unearthly  gloom.  The  extremes  of  hope 
and  fear,  bullying  and  cowardice,  throujjh 
which  h(!  had  passed,  together  with  the 
old  abvss  of  poverty  yawning  befiire  him 
in  greater  terri'>lenes8  than  ever,  had 
quite  unhinged  the  mind  of  John  Grahaa 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


85 


tad  he  could  not  command  the  necessary 
ment.il  decision  to  think  cnherentlj' 
Pacing  up  and  down,  he  cast  his  ^ya  ])y 
chance  on  the  portrait  of  his  brother,  and 
shrank  from  its  louk,  appearing,  as  it  did, 
ti)  he  irowtiing  uu  him,  as  if  in  anticipa- 
tion of  the  prymedilated  evil  design  beiu«r 
consummated. 

'  V\^liat  do  you  propose?'  asked  Ludo- 
vicko. 

'  What  do  you?'  asked  John  in  return. 
'  Nay,  1  propose  nothing  ;  you,   us  tne 
dele  ituil  party,  must  propose,  and   it  will 
be  tor  me  to  consider  if  I  will  accept.' 
'  W^ell,  then,  I  will  give  you — ' 
'  Bo  ware  !' cried    an    uuiiuown    voice, 
whicli  seemed  to    issue    from    Godlrey's 
portrait  on  tlie  wall. 

'  ilurci I ul  Heavens  !'  ejaculated  John, 
'  what  is  that  ?' 

'  I  don't  know,'  said  Ludovicko,  in 
Bome  c  mfusiou  :  *  it  must  he  soujehody 
out.sido.      Buc  go  on,  only  speak  lower.' 

'Icinnot  go  on — I'm  tirightened  to 
very  death.' 

'  I'sliasv  I    nonsense?     Mere    imagina- 
tion !     11  iw  much  did  you  say  you  would 
give  h — speak,  now  !' 
'  1  will  give — ' 

'  Bkwake!'  cried  a  voice,  in  a  tone  bold 
and  distinct. 

'  0  1,  mercy  !'  shrieked  John,  and  down 
he  fcii  in  a  trance. 

Ludovicko  rang  the  bell  instantly,  and 
without  tije  delay  of  a  second  iMrs.  Uru- 
ham  iniered  the  lil)rary. 

'  i'ou  have  been  listening,  madam,' said 
Grant  sternly  ;  '  and  it  iu  you  th.it  have 
been  r.ising  these  noises  and  frightening 
your  huohiiud.  But  do  not  attempt  to 
ttiwart  me,  or  both  shall  inevitably  be 
hurled  to  ruin.' 

'  On  my  soul,'  returned  the  now  hume 
bled  woman,  '  I  know  nothing  about  th- 
noises.  I  heard  them  just  as  you  heard 
them — I  know  nothing  more  of  them  than 
y<m  do.  Tiic  old  people  say  the  house  is 
haunted.' 

'  Twaddle !  Mere  twaddle !  Mark 
me !  You  have  luore  sense  than  your 
Lushjind  ;  tutor  him  well,  and  see  that 
hj  compromises  with  a  fair  grace.  Be 
fiiasonahle  with  me,  and  yt)u  may  get  on  ; 
but  oppos-  me  in  the  smdilest  tittle,  and 
you  and  he  are  ruined  totally  and  irreme- 
dJalily.  Uo  you  hear  ?  Tlie  servants  are 
coming  ;  keep  your  o  .vo  coanscl.  i  (sJuill 
cair,i;;ain  shortly. ' 

Ludoviciio  lidt,  and  John  Graham  v\'as 
oarrirtd  to  his  hed-rv)om.  Ills  wife  and 
daughter  tf-nd.d  him  all  nigiit,  and  Dr. 
Anthony  Fitzgil>hon  wms  sent  for  by  ex- 
prt-ss.  lie  exhausted  all  his  skill,  hut  no 
Uugs  could  minister  tc  a  mind  diseased  ; 


and  Mft.  Graham  had  the  utmost  difficut 
ty  in  jireveuting  her  husbaml,  in  the 
course  of  liis  incoherent  ravings,  from  say- 
ing something  that  might  lead  to  the  die- 
closure  of  the  fat.d  commumcation  that 
had  been  made  on  that  miserable  night. 
All  the  luxuries  of  the  castle  seemed  to  be 
cimverted  into  rottenness  and  de;«i 
men"s  bones  ;  the  fairest  apartments  were 
like  charnel-houses ;  the  gold  was  li-e 
molten  lead;  and  the  trees'  bore  no  fruit 
but  death.  0  dread  delusion!  thus  to 
make  tlie  litter  end  of  that  wretched  pair 
more  miserable  than  at  the  first.  0  hol- 
low glitter  and  gew-gaw  !  thus  to  plunge 
them  into  a  deeper  and  more  withering 
despair  than  crushed  them  when  your 
tinsel  first  beckoned  them  forth  from  the 
house  of  poverty. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


REMORSE. 


At   ten    o'clock,  as    was    his   wont, 
did    Mr.  Alfred    Day,  of  the    Ship  bank, 
descend  from  his  breakf.ist  to  business.— 
vertical  bolt  having  been  previously  drawn 
up,  it  only  remained   that  the  safe  stiould 
lie  opened.     One    section  containing  the 
books   of   the  establishment   had  already 
been  unfolded,  but  the  section  containing 
the  cash    had  to  be  opened  by  Mr.  Day 
himficlf,  and    by  no  other    mortal  man. — 
On  putting  in  his  hands  for  the  bags,  Mr. 
Day  w  IS  astounded  on  finding  something 
very    like  vacancy  ;  he   pushed  his  digits 
home  to  the  atone  casing,  and  still  a  lean 
teel ;   he  then  swept  his  arm  horizontally 
from  left  to  right,  but  nothing  was  disco- 
verahle  save  the  silver  bags,  recognisable 
'>y    their    superior    bulk.      lie   hurriedly 
called  for  a  candle,  and  then  the  startling 
fact  admitted  of  uo  further  doubt  that  the 
bank  had  been  robbed  of  all  its  treasures, 
silver   and    bills   excepted,  the   gold  and 
notes    being  completely  carried  otf,   and 
not    so  much  as  a  sovereign  left  behind.' 
Mr.  Day  was    speechless ;    he    beckoned, 
however,  to  Ogle  and  Primrose,  piiiuung 
to  the  almost  empty  shelf.     They  were  at 
no  loss  to  comprehend  the   terrible  catas- 
trophe.    Primrose  laughed    hysterically, 
and  was  rewarded  with  a  blow  from  Mr. 
Day's    key,  tiie    poor  man  inflicting  the 
ciia.stisemont  mecnanic.illy,and  ap|iarent- 
ly  being  unconsciojis   of  the  howl  si,-t  up 
•>y  tlie  junior.      Ogle  alone  retained  his 
s.-lf-poss.  ssion,  and    hinted  abimt  giving 
.ilarm  to  the  authorities  ;  Mr.  Day  nodded 
.irquiesci-nce,    but    cMuld    say  nothiiU'. — 
Ogle  ran  at  once  to  Ludovicko,  who.  bd- 


86 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLl. 


ing  procurator-fiscal,  was  the  best  resource 
in  tilt  einerg'  iic\ . 

•  (),  Mr.  AJuri.-ion  !  The  hank  ! — the 
}.>ank  !     Ynur  umle,  whtTeis  hf?' 

'  Tlie  Sliip  li.tiik  has  beeu  rohbed,  un- 
ci© !• 

'  How  do  you  know  that,  sir''  askt'd 
Luddvicko,  w  bo  was  .sitliivg  iu  his  biick- 
rouni,  with  iliedoov  ops-n,  although  Ogle. 
in  bis  p>-rturl>atii;r,  did  not  ste  him. — 
'The  young  man  did  not  say  so.' 

'  1  only  thouglit  so,  truui  bis  man- 
ner ' 

'  He  18  quite  right,  Mr.  Grant.  OnU 
come  aloim,  tiir,  it  you  please.  If  you 
only  saw  Mr.  Day,  si  !' 

'  I  shall  be  witli  you  in  one  minute. — 
Willi;im  come  aiung,  you  may  he  of  tiome 
asnistance  ;  or  ik),  your  v\it8^eem  to  havf. 
gone  a  wool  g.tthiriug.  Send  Kankiii 
whe-o  be  comes  back  from  the  stump- 
^ce.' 

In  any  other  circumstances  Morison's 
pale  face  and  embarrassed  manner  would 
have  excited  notice  ;  but  Ugle  w.is  ton 
iiurrifcd  to  notice  anything,  and  Ludovicko 
was  n(jt  allowed  any  timu  to  oli.-seivi^  til- 
ing hurried  out  hy  the  impetuosity  of  the 
teller.  During  their  walk,  or  rather  run, 
through  the  street,  they  saw  by  the  knntt- 
of  people  running  abnut.  and  the  coteries 
talking  in  groups,  tliat  the  news  had 
tran^pired  ;  ami  hy  the  time  they  readi- 
ed the  bank  a  crowd  had  assrm'iled  ruund 
the  doors.  Mr.  Day  was  ct)matohe  to 
stupidity  ,  and  could  scarcely  utter  a  word  ; 
but  hy  dint  of  questinning  and  cross-ques- 
tioning Ludovicko  asceitained  that  the 
manager  had  locked  the  sale  himsell'  on 
Saturday,  that  the  keys  had  not  been  out 
of  his  possesession  since  that  time  up  to 
the  hour  of  the  robbery  lieing  discovered, 
that  the  mau;iger  and  all  his  officials  hud 
been  in  the  premises  on  Saturday  night 
and  all  Sunday,  but  that  from  live  till 
eleven  on  Saturdny  niiiht  the  whole  had 
been  out,  and  it  accordingly  appeiired 
clear  that  the  rohlit-ry  had  been  efll  cted 
between  these  hours.  Fifty  times  did 
Ogle  and  Primrose  curse  Morison  a  sup- 
per, and  a  hundred  times  did  poor  Day 
curse  the  Craigallan  dinner  at  the  '  R'lyal 
Oak'  adjournment.  But  curses  could  not 
mend  matters,  and  other  remedial  mea- 
sures had  to  be  resorted  to.  Lud'ovii-ko 
reconnoitered  the  premises,  like  a  .'■kilful 
general;  but  finding  nothing  8us|  iciuus 
beside  the  safe,  he  went  uji-stairs  to  ex- 
auiine  the  bed-room  containing  the  hatch- 
way vhich  gave  access  to  the  bnlt.  He 
found  the  fragment  of  the  penknife  stick- 
ing in  the  wood,  and,  carefully  disludging 
ix,  put  it  into  his  pocket-huok.  llr'  then 
W«nt  to  the  difibrent  inns,  but  found  that  | 


no   horses  or  conveynnces  had  left  towr 
between  Saturday  and    Monday,  and  thai 
no  strangers  of  a  suspicious  kiiid  f'ad  left 
that  place.       From    these  cirl■uIu^tance8 
Ludu\ic»-o   concluded    that     the    rubbers 
were  still  in  town.     Without  Inss  of  time 
he  wn.te  off  to  the  prim-ipal  hanl-s,   stnp- 
i^iiig  the  notes  so  lar  as  they  were  known, 
and  alsoci'inmunicating  the  partii-uiars  of 
the  transaction  to  tne  jmlieeof  the  l.irger 
towns.     While  engaged  in  the   desjiatch 
of  the  correspondence   Ludovicko   li ad  oc- 
casion Several  times  to  come  to  Morisitn'a 
desk  ;  and  cmce,  finding  that   his  pen  re- 
quired mending,   be  liited    his  ne|,fiew"8 
knife,  and  on  ur<ing  it  he  was  mu(di  struck 
on  observing  that  the   bhide  was  broken. 
Pretending  to  cany  it  away  as  il  by  over- 
sight, he  retired   to  his   room,  and  goinc 
to  a  recess,  took   the  fragment   from    hia 
pocket-book,  and    found    that  it    corres- 
ponded exactly  with  the  break  in  his  ne- 
phew's knife.     Ludovicko  (irinned  like  a 
fiend,  and   immediately    locked    the    two 
witnesses  irito  a  stcretdrawer  of  his  strong 
hnx.      He    had   scarcely  done   this    w  Ijcn 
one  of  the   coast-guard  entered,  and   in- 
formed him  that  a  hat  and  [^ircel  of  t):ink- 
notes  had  been  found  on  ttie  heach  near 
Craig  dlan  Castle.     Ludovicko  hurried  ofl 
with    tlie  officer  in   a  post-chaise  to   ex- 
amine the  loc;ility,  and  on  arriving  found 
that  the  notes  belonged  to  the  Ship  Bank  ; 
that  a  boat  had  been  landed  there,  as  the 
impression  of  the  keel   w.is  visihle  above 
high-water  mark  :  and  that   the  bat  was 
that  of  a  gentleman,  not  a  sailor.      From 
all    these   considerations,   the    procurator 
grasped  at  the  conclusion  that  the  rohhers 
haii  escaped  by  sea,  that  i.is  nephew  was 
involved  in  the  transaction,  and  that  pro- 
bably   his  accomplice    was  Wainright  — 
Fridy  diii  Morisoti  observe  that    his  uncle 
only  required  a  thr<ad   to  make  a  hall; — 
for  here,  notwithstanduig  the  jirecautions 
tiiken  by  Wainright,  was  the  whole  attiiir 
all  but  laid  bare  to  the  eye  of  Ludovicko. 
He  w'as   not,  however,  one  of  those   who 
grasp  at  results  hastily  ;  he  always  liked 
his  conclusions  to  be    supported   by  colla- 
teral as  well  as  direct  proofs  ;   he  accord- 
ingly  sent   Morison    out  of  the  way  and 
opened  bis  battery  on  Rankin. 

'  By-the-way,'  said  he  to  that  gentle- 
man, •  William's  apprenticeship  w,is  out 
on  Saturday  ;  and  as  I  j)ut  him  under 
your  charge,  and  am  satisfied  that  how- 
ever be  may  have  profiti  d  by  it,  you  have 
done  your  duty  towards  him,  T  onj/ht  to 
have  given  you  this  before  you  Irft;  but 
not  seeing  YOU  at  the  time,  1  will  do  it 
now.' 

Sa\ing  this,  he  put  ten  guineas  into  tht 
hands  of  the  astonished  Rankin. 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


«7 


•  You  neod  not  mention  it  to  Willi. im, 
but  rtiiilly  I  hav«  luis^^ivingn  ;ib(iat  him, 
and  as  [  knMW  you  to  he  nCeady  1  sli  il! 
fe«l  i)lili^eii  by  y'>ur  keeping  hiiu  ;is  fir 
riglit  as  y')U  (mh.  I  Impe  he  behaved 
well  en  lug'i  (in  Situnl  ly  1  ist ;  h(i  1  lok-J 
ill  yrtstijrdty,  and  even  ti)-day  he  is  uuc  nt 
sorts  ' 

'  Ilt^  behaved  unc  imminly  well,  but  he 
met  with  an  aecidental  fill.' 

'  Oh,  iridied  !  W  is  tli.it  on  his  coming 
home  when  I  sent  for  him!' 

'  N).  ic  was  when  he  was  out  in  search 
of  Skipton.' 

*  When  !     Was  he  out  for  him  V 

♦  Yes.' 

'  And  did  he  get  him  V 

'No.' 

'  N  )W,  Rankin,  I  am  pirtiimlar  ah  >ut 
Willi  I II  8  ass  ici  ites.  What  8')rt  of  per- 
son is  this  SuipCon  ?' 

'  II ;  is  a  gtiod  humored,  funny  sort  of 
fellow.' 

'  Do  "8  he  drink  V 

'I  don't  thuik  it.' 

'  Are  VVilliam  and  be  intimate  V 

'  N'l.not,  particularly.' 

'  W^ho  were  all  ut  the  supper  besides 
you  1' 

'  Jonos  of  Mr.  Graham's  office,  and  Ogle 
md  Primrose  of  tlie  Ship  Bank.' 

'  D  tes  Willi  im  know  Ogle  and  Prim- 
rose intimately  V 

'^llrt  used  to  know  0>j;le  very  well,  but 
Priiiir.ise  he  never  sp<ike  to  before.' 

'  Ah,  indeed  !  And  how  did  he  think 
of  a.>?king  biiu  V 

'  lie  told  me  that  he  knew  Day  was  to 
he  at  Crait^all  in,  and  having  asked  Ogle, 
he  tlioug  It  it  a  pity  that  Primrose  should 
be  left  to  sit  at  hoiue  all  night.' 

'  fhat  was  very  considerate  remarked 
Lud  ivick<>  with  a  look  expressive  of  the 
highest  lKrievi)l,>nce  ;  '  and  1  hope  that 
he  entertaineil  you  well  and  liberally." 

'  O'l,  we  enjoyed  ourselves  remarkable. 
He  t'lH  us  thaty.iu  had  been  kindenuut^h 
to  furidsi)  ample  laeans ;  and  the  bill  was 
run  up  to  five  pounds.' 

'  I'livt  was  rigiit,' answered  Ludovicko. 
*  Well,  with  your  assist  inc. ■,  Rankin,  I 
hope  that  for  liis  mother's  sake,  we  sh  ill 
be  ahlr  to  keep  him  right.  Do  you  know, 
however,  tliat  [  am  tilad  that  that  man 
Wiiiiri^ht  is  gone  ;  I  rather  think  Wil- 
liam and  he  were  always  toe  th'ck  to- 
gether.' 

'  ll'"  always  sw  ire  by  him  ;  and  when 
they  met  in  the  office  they  smoked  a  g  md 
deal  t  igether.  I  may  mention,  sir,  be- 
fore 1  g  I,  for  my  own  justification,  thar 
often  when  he  held  out  tliat  he  was  with 
me  he  w;ia  with  W;iinri>iht.' 

*  Oh,  1  daresay      Well,  say  nothing  of 


this  conversation  ;  and  now  n)r  fear  yoB 
loose  the  post,  ycu  hal  better  take  the 
letters  about  the  bank-rblibery  over  at 
on<!e.'  3 

Rankin  did  as  he  wtia  desired,  and  loft 
with  a  deep  impression  of  L'idovicko'a 
liberality,  >vhose  character  be  nowt'mught 
he  saw  in  its  true  light.  The  wisdom  of 
the  employer  also  cnue  in  for  a  due  share 
nf  commendation  fr  im  the  assistant ;  fir 
was  he  not  still  to  be  head-el -rk  '  II  id 
not  Lud.ivicko  spoken  to  liim  c mlid  'ntial- 
ly?  Was  it  not  the  b 'Setting  sin  of  em- 
ployers 1 1  place  sons,  nephews,  and  cou- 
sins iiver  the  h>\xd  of  veterans  of  fiinous 
service'  But  Mr.  (jratit  wii"  not  to  do 
tint.  N  )  dou'H,  thou,^'it  Rmkin.  it  de- 
pends a  g  lo  i  deal  on  who  h  ipp-ns  to  be 
head-clerk;  and  laying  the  flittering  unc- 
tion to  his  soul  that  his  luerits  haii  it  last 
been  appreei  ited,  Rankin  post-*'!  his  let- 
ters, an  1  invited  Mr.  Jones  to  Mrs.  Kind- 
liy's,  where  they  discussed  tic  great 
event  of  the  day  over  a  bottle  of  Octo- 
ber. 

LudovicJvo  balanced  himself  on  the  two 
hind  le^s  of  his  chair,  and.  looking  to  the 
roof,  i'ell  into  a  deep  reverie. 

'  Let  me  see,'  said  the  good  man ; 
'  William  tirst  contrived  to  deciy  away 
the  bank  clerks,  and  then  absented  him- 
self to  join  in  the  robbery.  SIhirp  work, 
very  sharp  work  ;  well  contrived  and  well 
executed.  I  took  him  lor  a  heavy,  self- 
ish fellow,  and  the  plan  could  ii>t  have 
been  bis,  but  Wainright's.  I  mu.>il  play 
luy  card  well  with  a  youngster  like  thia 
for  parttier,  mid  especially  if  he  is  in 
league  with  Wainri;^ht;  but  1  11  match 
them  both.  The  bill  was  Ave  ]>ound8, 
was  it'  I  gave  him  only  two  ;  where  has 
he  got  the  other  three'  I  luiss-d  three 
sovereigns  lately;  he  must  be  the  man! 
I  shill  go  to  Mrs.  Findliy,  and  asi'ertiia 
in  what  kind  of  luoney  he  paid  the  bill.  I 
always  had  a  feeling  that  I  luight  be  baf- 
fled in  the  Craigallan  business  ,  bat  now 
I  stand  on  a  ruck,  and  the  gain  will  com- 
pensate me  fir  the  loss  of  my  uncle's  two- 
penny-halfpenny property.  Stop,  now; 
if  I  were  to  bring  the  boy  to  justice  his 
property  would  be  contisi-ated  to  the 
Cro^n,  and,  as  tlie  nearest  heirs,  the 
Urahams  might  by  interest  obtiiu  it  ia 
gilt:  that  is  a  bad  idea.  It  might  also 
hurt  me  ill  the  public  eye  to  h  ive  a  felon 
so  nearly  rel.ited.' 

With  such  reflM(!tion3  he  we-it  to  inflict 
his  threatened  visit  on  Mrs.  Fiodlay. 
That  lady  received  him  with  a  mixture  ol 
humility  and  embitrr.issment,  as  ^he  knew 
chat  ll.inkin  woiild  nut  like  to  be  discov- 
>red  in  her  house,  jirid  she  was  not  cer- 
tain but  that    Ludovicko  visited  her  fol 


88 


CRAIGALL.iN  CASTLE. 


Boae  judicial  purpose.  She  was  Poon, 
however,  si^t  at  eas.^  by  tlie  cuvdial  greet 
ing  of  thf  prouurati  r. 

*  Yuu  wi^  he  hiirprised  to  si^e  me  here., 
Mrs.  Findlay,  Iiut  I  am  ohiigcd  ti>  gn 
round  about  tbsitawl'ul  Imsint  ss  that  hap- 
ppiiod  ttiis  morning.' 

'  Aje,  sir,  it  wiis  an  awful  business.' 
'  Have  you   had  any    atraiiger  visitors 
lately,  Mrs.  Findlay  ?' 
'  None,  hir.' 

•  Or  have  3'ou  had  recent  payments  of 
m(in''y ' ' 

'  No,  sir  ;  tlie  last  I  got  of  any  conse- 
qi!('iR-e  was  from  your  iif[ihew,  Mr.  VVil- 
liatii,  on  Siturday  iiight.' 

'  Oh,  yes,  1  know  about  that ;  he  paid 
you  two  pound  notes  and  tkree  sove- 
reigns.' 

'  Exactly  that,  sir.' 

Af  this  stagi:^  of  the  interview  Jliss 
FimJliiy  introduced  her  head  at  the  door, 
,\nd  c.dlcd  out — 

'  Mitiier,  Mr.  Rankin  wants  twal-ottles 
of  sevenjxnriy  ;  he  says  the  itiier  kind 
has  nae  pith,  and  is  as  sour  as  vinegar.' 

The  cat  being  thus  un(jeremoniounly  let 
out  of  tlie  bag,  the  bostess  wasglail  when 
Ludovit:ko  rose  to  t^ike  his  have  ;  and, 
like  a  yirudent  landl.idy.  took  care  not  to 
let  her  guests  know  who  had  been  her 
visitor. 

On  reaching  home,  Ludovicko  found 
that  his  m  phew  had  not  returned,  lie  ! 
had  been  sent  some  di8tan<;e  out  of  town,  ! 
and  the  journey  out  and  back  was  a  weary 
one  to  him.  The  news  of  the  robbery 
had  spread  like  wildfire,  and  every  man 
and  WDiuan  whom  he  met  on  the  way  liad  | 
Bomethiiig  to  say  in  connexion  with  it.  j 
The  inttliigence  of  bank-notes  and  a  hat' 
being  Ibund,  ami  the  mark  of  a  boat  hav- ! 
ing  been  seen  on  the  bead),  was  commu- 
nicated to  him  by  a  farmer  returnitig  from 
market.  '  The  thieves  will  be  found  and 
hanged,'  said  the  man  ;  and  Moriscm  felt 
as  if  the  rustic  stored  hard  at  him.  A 
laborer  who  knew  Morison  came  up  next, 
and  assured  him  that  the  hank  robbers 
had  been  caught,  adding,  that  *  he  would 
come  in  for  his  share.'  Tlie  rustic  mennt 
prol'essional  employment,  but  the  guilty 
youth  took  up  the  remark  in  a  person.ii 
•ense.  As  evening  began  to  draw  on,  he 
became  gradually  frightened  :  the  sound 
of  his  own  footsteps,  occasionally  his  very 
thadow,  alarmed  him,  while  the  actual 
approach  of  footsteps  totally  unmanned 
him.  Literally,  every  bush  becauie  an 
officer  ;  and  he  now  saw  at  what  a  fear- 
ful coat  he  had  al;quired  gold  that  threat- 
ened to  burn  up  his  very  soul  and  make 
him  wretched  for  lile.  At  one  time  he 
khoujiht  of  throwintj;  himself  at  his  uncle  8 


f<;et,  at  another  of  running  away^  but  al 
last  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Findlay's,  and  be  guided  by  the  news  he 
might  picK  up  thei'e  a.s  to  whether  lie 
cmild  safely  return  to  his  uncle's.  On 
being  shown  into  the  rooiu  where  Jones 
and  (Jgle  were  sitting,  these  gentlemen 
received  him  with  great  dryness  ;  and 
tills  he  set  down  as  another  proof  tluit 
suspicion  was  on  him. 

*  Any  word  ol  the  robbery  yet,  Ran- 
kin •'  asked  the  culjirit,  with  as  much  in- 
diU'erence  as  he  Could  assume. 

'  lu  one  Sense,  no — in  another,  yes,'  re- 
plied his  fellow-clerk  in  au  oracular  tone. 

'  How  do  you  mean  V 

'  I  mean  that  Mr.  Grant  knows  all 
about  it  in  his  own  mind,  but  he'll  not 
say  anything.  By  Jove  he  is  a  clever 
lellow  !  the  best  head  in  the  county ! 
Th:it's  a  settled  point,  and  1  make  no  ex- 
ceptions, not  one.' 

Here  Mr.  Rankin  took  an  emphatic 
pinch  of  snuff. 

'  How  do  you  know  that  he  Ijnows  ii 
all  in  his  own  mind  if  he  did  not  say  any- 
thing?' 

'Ah,  that's  the  point!  IIow  do  I 
know,  indeed  ? — that's  the  rub  !  I  had  a 
Cxtifidential  talk  with  your  uncle,  my  boy; 
and  all  1  siiall  say  is,  that  you  had  better 
take  care  of  yourself.' 

!Morison's  face  became  more  haggard 
than  ever  at  this  hint,  and  the  robbery 
and  nothing  e4se  running  in  his  head 
everything  that  was  sfiooen  or  heiird  was 
construed  into  an  iniimytion  ol  warning 
cnncerning  it.  He  offered  ti)  be  liberal 
with  his  two  companions  in  the  way  of 
tr<-.ating,  but  his  overtures  were  coolly  de 
dined  ;  and,  under  the  idea  that  all  man 
kind  Were  conspiring  against  him,  he  bur 
ried  homewards  determined  to  brave  the 
worst.  He  found  tliat  his  uncle  was  busy 
in  his  own  room,  aiid  hiid  given  orders 
not  to  be  disturbed.  Relieveil  at  the  iilea 
of  not  meeting  him  Ibr  the  night,  Mori- 
son  slunk  away  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep 
No  ponition  afibrded  him  ease.  At  one 
tiuje  his  throbbing  pulse  lieat  high  in  le- 
ver, then  cold  tremors  came  over  him, 
and  sjiectres  and  things  unearthly  glided 
bel'ore  him  ;  he  groaned  in  ag'Tiy,  and 
wearily  looked  for  the  dawning  of  the  day 
But  hours  came  heavily,  and  at  intervalh 
wlii<!h  seemed  ages  in  duration.  Strange 
drcjuiis.  too,  of  judges,  condemned  cells, 
anil  jii  ibets  rose  like  phantoms  on  tho 
brow  of  night,  and  extorted  sharp  screams 
()f  agony  from  the  tortured  crimin.il. 

Lud"vicko  sat  in  his  bed  room  writing 
page  after  page,  with  n^  perceptible diini- 
nation  ol  energy.     Midnight  came 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


89 


That  hour  when   Sleep  aits  proudest  on  lier 
throne, 

»nd  Btill  he  labored  ;  but  at  last,  by  one 
o'clock,  lie  iipfiii.ireii  to  li.tvo  t^ot  tliroiiiiti 
bin  t:i8k,  anl  bv  way  of  iitiale  lie  turned 
to  tlie  dyiii;^  iiiil)cr8  of  lire,  but  found 
tliinu  toit  l.ir  gon«  to  be  reMUscitated.  Al- 
thoui;h  oliilleil,  he  still  continued  to  sit, 
and  was  ,dc(.'piy  immersed  in  meditation 
wheu  tli,e  clocii  told  the  ominous  hour  <<f 
one.  Ttw;  d)ing  die  or  recover  at  mid- 
night ;  and  even  to  the  stuut  and  healthy 
tht^ro  is  often,  under  cirenmstanceS  which 
cannot  l)e  di'f^crihud,  a  solt'umity  of  tune 
and  feeling  suin-riiiduced  by  the  uiiiinight 
hour.  Tlie  li>;king  of  a  cLick,  and  espe- 
cially the  striking  oi"  the  initial  hour  of 
the  new-born  diiy,  di'e[.ien  tiiiese  eumtions  ; 
uiemi»ry  (iKojures  up  images  oi  the  dead 
ui  such  seasons,  or  consciem-e  recalls  the 
misdeeds  of  other  days,  or  the  depressed 
spirit  regards  the  luture  with  fear  and 
trembling,  cir  the  feelin^js  and  acts  of  the. 
g^'hnlc  lile  are  tumultuoualy  bruught  to 
miQ<i,  and  a  plnstration  of  snul  prniluced 
more  subduing  than  the  iudul;:enceof  any 
Bpeci  il  train  uf  thought.  .\nd  let  it  not 
be,  sU|  poled  th  it  La  liivicko  wis  above  all 
such  intliiences.  Nipole^n  became  s  >- 
lemniseil  in  the  midst  of  his  generals  on 
he  iring  a  village  hell  ring  for  vespers  , 
and  Lmiovicko,  like  hiiu,  was  flerfU  and 
blood.  The  lawyer  somehow  swept  in 
thought  ;ilotig  tlie  pr>gr"Sd  of  his  whole 
career.  Money  and  p  iwer  were  his  idols  ; 
was  he  n  it^^ettHig  botti  ?  But  was  there 
n  »te  msaiuing  toil,  anxiety,  an  I  dissitis- 
faction  !  L'li-re  were  ;  but  ho[ie  gil  led 
the  future.  In  time  ho  wiaild  be  a  rich 
old  m  ni — die,  and — thea' — -then  what' 
Ludoviek  I  h  i<]  not  for  many  a  year  otice 
thnuglit  (>•'  whit  that  (ken  involved,  and 
now  It  o'>truded  itself  on  him  in  a  w  ly 
that  he  did  not  like. 

'  M-n  do  n.)t  see  through  me,' reasoned 
he  ;  *  does  any  one  else  do  it  V 

Suddenly  thi;  door  shook,  and  his  hair 
Btood  on  erid  in  su-pense.  A  white  fij^ure 
elowly  ent-red  tiie  room,  and  to  the  as- 
tonishmenr  of  Ludovieko  it  wii-s  his  n— 
jdiew  in  his  night-dr.  ss.  lie  w:is  alioui 
to  speiik,  when  he  p«rc(dve<i  that  Moris  in 
was  aslee(>.  An  undetinable  dread  spread 
thriiu>»h  the  frame  of  the  uncle  at  th  i  ap- 
pear:inee  of  this  phenomenon.  With  men 
in  their  senses  and  awake  Ludovieko 
could  do  an\thin^  ;  but  the  blanched  fac  • 
of  aeomnaiutiniist,  in  hi-  state  of  mind 
and  *■•".  t,M-r,  nour  of  nijiht,  made  his  very 
serves  tinjile.  Slowly  the  sleeping  youth 
paced  uj,  the  room,  Lu<lovicko  carefully 
retreatinti  before  him,  and  afraid  to  speak 
er  make  the  least  noise. 

'Now,    now!'   said    the    uuconsciiais 


form,  '  there  it  is  ! — the  bolt  is  up  !  praj 
God  it  were  d  >wn  agiiul  Now,  now! 
— run,  run!  —  Wainright,  you — ' 

'  Something  else  he  muttei'ed,  but  it  was 
inaudi'ile;  and,  afier  gr'>ping  round  the 
room,  he  went  out  into  the  pass.ige.  Lu- 
dovieko followed  with  his  c  mdle.  Th« 
figure  piMsed  at  the  ladder  leading  to  the 
roof,  mumhling  '  nut  noyv,'  and  at  length 
went  hack  to  hed.  Luilovicko  himself 
went  to  rest,  but  sJoep  also  forsojK  hit 
pillow,  and  troubled  dreams  cf  M  irj) 
Morison,  with  her  mild  face,  came  up  be- 
lore  him;  and  she  stooped  over  her  sou, 
aii<l  implored  his  meicy,  and  reminded 
Lodovieko  of  earlier  days  ;  and  the  1-iw- 
yer  melted  bef  u'e  th.it  sweet  persuasion, 
and  promised  to  save  her  boy. 


CHAPTER  XX  V. 

CRI.MI.\.\L  COMPACT. 

A  MARKED  change  iame  over  the  family 
at  Or.i.i.,all  m  Castle.  Tfie  fither  got  low 
and  dispirited,  the  mother  sullen  and  mo- 
rose ;  while  the  daughter,  amidst  every 
di.sc  lur.igement.  atletj<led  to  both,  and 
endeavored,  as  far  as  in  her  lay.  to  re- 
lieve their  di>quit-tu<le  ;  hut,  wholly  igno- 
rant of  iti  secret  cause,  her  eiTiris  were 
not  attended  with  much  suci-ess  John 
Graham  was  grateful  lijr  the  attentions  of 
his  d  oighter  A  look,  a  smile,  or  a  cup 
of  Cold  water  from  her  was  halm  to  hia 
crushed  spirit,  and  he  doated  on  her,  and 
listf-ned  to  her  voice,  and  even  to  her 
footsteps,  as  if  she  had  been  a  being  of  a 
sup-  rior  order,  who  had  come  froiu  the 
better  land. 

And  a  soperior  being  she  was  indeed  ; 
tliough  without  intending  it,  and  perhaps 
from  an  i'lea  that  the  pleasure  in  such 
transactions  was  mutual.  John's  wanta 
in  the  way  of  attendance  wre  in  number 
great,  and  in  character  trifling  an^l  vex- 
itious ;  and  yet  she  mnii.stered  to  these 
wants  without  complaint  or  murmur. — 
No  one  Could  sooth  his  pill  <w  but  S  irah  ; 
no  one  could  mix  sleepiMg-dr.iu;i;hts,  or 
in  the  girden,  but  she  ;  no  one  could 
read  a  pi  ly  to  him,  or  walk  from  room  to 
room,  or  in  the  trarden,  hut  she.  So  far 
from  feeling  jeal.ius  of  the  attachment  to 
Sarah,  Mrs  Graham  seemed  <;lad  at  be- 
ing r-lieved  from  the  faiijiue  of  acting  iis 
nurse.  She  had  troubles  eaongh  of  her 
own,  without  being  saddled  with  those  of 
her  husband  ;  but  still,  although  reai-rved 
and  distinct,  she,  too,  ho^-ed  hetiire  Sa- 
rah. The  innocence  of  the  daughter  rais 
ed  her  to  an  altitude  which  the  parents 
regarded   with  reverence,  and  signed  fof 


90 


CRAir, ALLAN  CASTLE. 


»nd  enviei]  in  thfir  utmost  heart.  Ilrr 
strength  was  ttieir  weakness  ;  for  she  ^^"a^ 
Strong  ir»  \iitue  and  liontsty,  and  t\n-\ 
Wire  n<it.  Pure  aa  the  dew  on  the  opeii- 
inji  fl>vier,  her  viry  ehcerlulnebs  cautieo 
severe  ii  pang  to  her  p:ir<.'nt«  ;  and  ii 
was  indeed  touiitiing  to  observe  how,  whei- 
Binjiinji  "r  pliying  any  of  tlu-  glorious  ol<t 
melouiert  ol  Scutiiind,  witli  a  view  ofrt\i\- 
ing  the  despondency  of  her  father,  tl  e 
pur<  ni,  6)  lijf  Irom  heing  cheered,  drop- 
ped a  tear  on  cheeks  faut  furrowing  In 
prcUi-iture  iige.  S-rah  bure  '  the  inCtn^e 
of  8oi:g  in  the  golden  ci-nser  of  a  tsiule.~s 
bosoDi,'  and  could  not  utiderstand  this 
ever  increu.-ing  and  deepening  dejectinti, 
and  hecame  greater  afraid  tliat  a  shadow 
was  h(>vei;irij;  over  the  household  whicii 
Would  soon  settle  down  to  midnight  dark 
ness. 

In  the  course  of  the  week,  Liniovicko 
eont  a  note  to  the  castle,  staling  that  h>' 
understood  iMr  Grahuu  was  unwell,  he 
would  delay  his  promised  visit  until  he 
was  coiivalesi.^ent ;  and  begged  that  he 
mijiht  have  due  intimation  ot  that  event. 
John  and  his  wife  thought  that  it  w.iuhi 
bo  b'-st  to  Come  to  terms  at  once,  anil 
that  the  sooner  the  interview  was  over 
the  bett-r  ;  and  an  answer  was  sent  to 
that  t  fleet. 

Sarah  was  surprised  next  morning  when 
Luduvicko  made  his  appearance  to  break- 
fast. She  knew  that  he  had  been  pro- 
scribed at  the  castle,  and  that  her  father 
had  been  tai-en  ill  on  the  night  of  liis  in 
terview  with  him;  and  the  demeanor  of 
the  entertained  and  entertainers  at  the 
Dioruiii}/  meal  only  addi  d  to  her  wonder 
Ludovicko  was  all  conlness — nay,  he  was 
staidly  piilite — during  tiie  wh')le  time  at 
table.  Jlr  and  Mrs.  (iraham,  on  the 
contrary,  were  cordused  and  ill  at  ease  ; 
aniJ  it  nquu-ed  little  effirt  on  the  part  of 
Sarah  to  discover  tijat  (Jrant  was  an  ob- 
ject iif  (Ireaii  to  lier  father  and  mother. 
JSreakfast  beinn  over,  Ludovicko  ac-ked 
Mr  Graliam  if  he  would  h.ivo  the  good- 
ness to  show  him  over  the  jiroperty.  On 
John  assenting,  Sarah  attempted  to  dis- 
suade him. 

'  You  are  very  ill,  father,  and  not 
strong,  and  should  not  leave  the  house  for 
a  day  or  two  yet  ' 

'  1  must  go,  my  dear.' 

'  If  \  ou  ujust  go,  you  must  not  go  far- 
ther than  the  g:;vden  ' 

'  I  must  bee  the  property,'  said  Ludo- 
vicko. 

'  I  will  gj  with  you,  then,  myself,'  re- 
plied Sarah,  timidly  •.  '  that  is  if  you  will 
fcUow  m*^,  t^ir ' 

'  With  me,  ma'am?  Why,  it  would 
Bet  the  whole    Jown  a-laughing    if    they 


heard  that  Ludovicko  Grant  had  bM* 
w.o'king  with  a  young  lady.  It  would 
havebei. n  more  like  the  tiling  bad  yon 
made  the  propnsd  to  my  nephew.' 

Sirah  blushed,  for  she  remembered 
.VIoiison's  imptrtunity  at  two  ililf-rent 
charity  balls.  Her  father  imw  being  at- 
tired fcr  walkitij;,  she  sng-jesti  d,  iia  a 
last  resource,  that  she  should  be  allowed 
to  aeeompany  tiiem.  tis  her  fathers  weak- 
ness miglit  give  tn.uMe  to  the  gentleman. 
I'liis  overture  w.is  al.'^o  r  j.cted  ;  and  the 
mother  adding  her  wi  ight  to  the  negative 
xide,  Sarah  was  overruh  d. 

Ludovieko  and  John  a<  cordingly  walked 
forth.  On  coming  to  the  gankn-gate, 
John  motioned  as  il  he  Would  enter,  bift 
Ludovicko  would-n  it  allow  him. 

'No,  no."  said  that  cautious  gentleman, 
'  no  eavesdmppitig  this  time  We  must 
g  I  where  we  can  neither  be  seen  nor 
heard,  and  a  garden  is  not  a  pla<;e  of  that 
deseripti  III :  it  has  too  many  walls  and 
ti-ees  both  f<ir  gazers  and  li.-*t-ners.'  " 

They  walked  d%)wn  below  the  stone 
bri<ige  that  sfianned  the  Allan  water,  and 
getting  into  a  tisliing  skill',  uere  rowed 
across  to  the  desol.ite  jiaNture-rieUs  where 
Goilfrey  wiis  buried.  John  ehu'ldered 
when  the  old  churchyard  of  St.  Yarrold 
came  in  sight,  T.nd  wouhi  ritiier  th.it  the 
transaction  had  been  consummated  some- 
wliere  else. 

'  What  is  the  matter  with  youT  in- 
quired the  lawyer. 

'  1  don't  like  this  place.  Ttiere's  the 
chnrcliyard  over  yonder.' 

'  Well,  what  about  it'  People  are  not 
fritihtened  at  churciiyarils  in  the  daytime 
— it  is  only  at  night  that  they  mind  euoh 
things." 

'  That  depemls  a  good  deal  on  when 
they  expect  to  bi^  in  the  chnrchviird  ;  and 
1  feel  thiit  my  time  is  not  far  distant.' 

'You!  Whiit  should  make  you  die? 
You  have  jilenty  of  money,  and  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  But  coiiu',  let  us  to  busi- 
ness.     What  do  you  pr>  pose  !' 

'  r  propose  nothing.  I  am  completely  in 
jour  power.  Propose  what  you  like — 
only  tie  merciful,  if  you  have  any  notion 
(if  the  meaning  of  the  word.' 

'  No  sentiment,  if  you  please.  T  pro- 
pose thct  yo'i  give  un)  one  char  lailf  of 
ynur  income  ;  that  a  rental  be  iissumedl 
for  the  castle  and  groumis.  to  be  paid  out 
of  your  halt';  that  \ou  submit  all  your 
books  ano  transactions  to  lae  jieriodically, 
and  allow  me  i/)  exercise  a  coiii(il>te  c  m- 
trol  over  your  intromi,■^sions  ;  and  finJly, 
that  you  bequeath  ihe  whole  property  to 
me  at  your  death.* 

'  I'll  sooner  die !  The  pri-p  .jal  is  mofll 
infamous.' 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


»i 


*  What  part  do  you  o^TJect  toT  aaked 
Ludovicko,  turriinji  nmiul,  und  planting 
his  walrting-stiok  in  tlie  gruuud. 

'All.' 

'  Parts  make  up  every  all.  Suppose, 
now,  that  w  J  begin  .to  disseot.  TliereV 
the  present  half" 

'  VV'cIl,  t<ir,  the  present  half,  as  you  call 
k.  Am  I  to  kee'p  up  the  house,  anJ  live 
in  style,  iticurrhigcxprtuses  in  every  ahapu, 
while  yiiu  Mtep  in,  and,  without  trouble, 
pocket  a  cile  ir  halt'?' 

'  Better  halflidh  than  no  fish.  Go  on. 
Have  you  any  objection  to  my  inspec- 
tion ' ' 

'  Most  decidedly.  You  would  he  inter- 
fering on  every  oiHjasion  ;  and  I  ehuuld  hi' 
made  a  ninny  of  hefiire  my  (.iwn  tenants, 
■hipmasters,  clerks,  servants.' 

'  Still  the  old  delusion  ;  these  little 
words,  my  own  this,  and  my  own  that. 
Throw  them  <mt  of  your  vocaonliry  ;  they 
have  no  business  there.  Moreover,  re- 
collect how  you  (,' )niiucted  busim^ss  V)e- 
fore  your  brother's  death  ;  and  let  your 
bank  account  show  how  you  have  adn»in 
istered  his  pioperty  since.  You  forte 
consists  in  spi^nding,  not  making,  or  even 
keeping.  And  in.stead  of  kicking  at  my 
off'red  assistance  you  should  be  gr.itefiil  ; 
it  is  tlie  only  sure  way  of  iucreasnig  your 
moiety.' 

'  You  have  not  convinced  rae  ;  and,  as 
regarls  the  List  point,  I  will  on  no  ac- 
count S'lhtuit  to  it.  I  muHt  provide  for 
my  ftmily  ;  and  how  can  I  do  so  if  I  am 
to  leave  everything  to  you?  Mrs.  Gra- 
ham will  likely  survive  m«,  and  most  cer- 
tainly my  daughter  will  ;  and  the  indig- 
nity of  their  boing  put  out  is  something.' 

'  That  c  in  easily  b<i  manngnd.  Part  of 
my  half  can  be  mortgaged  on  the  proper 
ty ;  then  at  your  death  Mrs.  Graham  will 
not  have  the  needful  to  redeem  it,  and 
thus  it  will  easily,  and  without  suspicion, 
fall  into  my  hands  ;  and  as  to  her  main- 
tenance, come,  now,  I  dont  mind  beina 
liberal,  I  siiall  give  her  some  of  the  furni- 
ture, and  soiue  two  hundred  a-year  C)r 
life,  pniviilt'd  slie  leaves  the  castle.  Your 
departure  will  he  a  good  excuse  for  re- 
ducin>r  the  establishment.' 

'  And  what  o(  my  daughter,  sir?' 

'Can't  she  live  with  her  mother,  as 
other  daughters  do!' 

'  No  ;  the  sum  is  too  little  for  both  ; 
and  espociilly  considering  how  my  child 
bins  been  br<mght  up.' 

'Ave.  true.''  said  Ludovicko.  '  T  for- 
got the  Inxuties  she  was  accustomed  to  in 
early  life.' 

'  Don't  raock  me,  sir  ;  let  me  he  aati.s- 
6ed  as  to  my  wife  ami  child,  and  1  do  not 
fiire  much  fur  myself.' 


'  You  can  provide  for  them    y  insurinfi 

your  lile.' 

'  I  wish  something  besides  that.  ^Y()uld 
you  life-rent  my  daughter  in  the  annuity 
that  you  propose  for  her  motlier  !' 

'  Life-rent  your  daughter?  How  the 
mischief  could  such  an  idea  enter  your 
head  ?     How  old  is  she  ?' 

'  Her  mother  knows  her  age  Ixjst,  but 
I  think  she  is  about  twenty.' 

'  Twenty  !  a  horrid  age  for  a  life-rent 
Ij«'t  me  sec,  now.  Twenty  ;  by  the  Car^ 
li,Nle  bills  her  life  is  worth  forty-tme  years' 
purchase,  by  the  Northam|»ton  tnirty- 
three  ;  either  bad  enough.  iJewides,  wo- 
men never  die,  they  have  as  many  lives 
as  cats  ;  and  when  they  hold  life-rents 
there  is  no  possibility  of  kiUiug  them.  It 
Can  t  be  !' 

'  But  it  must  be  !' 

'  Must  be  !  Take  care — you  are  again 
forjielting  yourself.  By-tliM-wav,  your 
daughter  is  in  bad  luck.  Your  bn^ther 
toov  a  fancy  to  her,  and  me;int  to  have 
left  her  an  annuity  of  wome  kind  ;  but  as 
[  did  not  approve  of  the  pnject,  I  kept 
biick  the  pafiers,  and  saved  him  from  the 
Coiumission  of  that  sin  !' 

'  Scoundrel !  Are  you  not  ashamed  of 
yourself?' 

'  Are  you  ashamed  of  the  Agricuiltural 
Society  ?  I  came  out  with  the  determi- 
nation to  forj^et  and  forgive  ;  but  if  you 
will  l)e  obstreperous,  I  mubt  remind  you 
(jf  our  relative  positions.' 

*  VVhy,  then,  do  you  gloat  over  the  vil- 
lain(ms  injury  that  you  have  done  to  my 
poor  child  !' 

'  Why  does  the  anglor  dally  with  the 
trout  after  it  is  safely  hook'^d  ?  But  come, 
no  banter  ;  it  is  child's  play  !  Do  you 
now   igree  to  my  proposal  ^' 

'  No  ;  it  would  be  sacrificing  her.' 

'  Ah  I  Still  harping  on  your  d.iughter. 
Confound  these  women,  they  are  always 
in  the  road.  Now  I  think  of  it,  I  see 
how  to  get  out  of  the  dilKculty.  Suppose 
yiui  tell  vour  daughter  to  marry  my  ne- 
phew ;  they  are  oaisins  already,  and  that 
would  consolidate  the  connexion ;  and 
tirintjing  yiai  and  me  closer  would  justify 
the  mortgaging  in  the  eye  of  the  cu- 
rious.' 

'  You  told  me,  sir,  that  your  nephew 
was  an  improvident  person,  and  I  hav3 
heard  bad  acc(mnts  of  him  from  other 
quarters.  Would  you  have  the consiiience 
to  ask  me  to  sacrifice  my  only  ciiiiin' 

'  Fiddh'sfirks!  The  younj;  luan  is  orly 
sowiui;  his  wild  oats,  and  ladies  prefer  a 
little  laxity  in  their  mates  ;  and  as  mi-r- 
riage  is  all  a  lottery,  the  tossing  of  « 
penny,  heads  or  tails,  as  it  happens,  t'  < 


9f 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


chancs  of  his  being;  a  good  lins'iand  tire 
as  great  us  of  her  lieing  a  goiul  wife.' 

'  You  do  not  kuow  uiy  S.rah,  sir,'  said 
John,  the  tear  »tarling  id  his  t'Vt'. 

'  Do  nut   l-now  her  ■   of  eourat;  I   don't 
and  nevtT  in  thes^mie  li;;ht  that  }ou  do 
Every  fatlier  thinks  Ids  daughtiT  a  non- 
tuch,  and   every  old    woman   regards  her 
eon  as  a  hero  ;  the  sti|ierstitiiin  is  as  (;ld  as 
the  hills.     But  keeping  that  out  of  view, 
bethink  yuu,  now,  that  it  is  just  possi^ile 
that  if  uiy  nephew,  or  second  cousin  as  he 
is,    Uifro    literally,    were    to   ctime    to   a 
knowledge  of  the  will — the  circuuistance 
is  possible,  although  not  j^rohaide,  hut  I! 
like   to  (juard   against  even    p()S^^ib;lities, 
and   tlierff 're  it  is  right  to  cuuteiuplate  | 
the  posfi'rility  of  his  discovering  t)ur  little  j 
arrangeuient— wi)ulil  he  not   lie  tempted 
to  husn  up  the  matter  on  finding  that  his  | 
wife's  fi.tM'»r  was  one  agent,  and   his  mo-  j 
ther's   cousin   another?     Just   think  of! 
that  !     It  is  certainly  worthy  of  consider-  ] 
atiun ;  and  I  am  conSdent  that  on  reflec-  | 
tioD  you  will  see  tliat  your  daughter  may 
be  of  considi-rahle  service.' 

'  My  daughter,  I  know,  would  do  any- 
thing for  nie  ;  bat  I  cannot  now  on  tne 
brink  of  ruin,  involve  her  in  my  f  dl.  She 
knows  n  )Chiii2;  <.f  this  dreadlul  business, 
and  I  dare  not  tell  her.' 

♦  Why  not'  She  is  old  enough,  and, 
if  ehe^is'like  other  wom^n,  selfish  enough 
to  desire  to  wear  jewellery,  i.nd  live  in  a 
castle,  and  all  that  sort  of  "thing.  If  Mor- 
rison iimi  stie  were  to  beiiavt^  themselves, 
I  would  make  them  my  1-tirs  ,  and  so  the 
property  would  be  in  the  hands  of  your 
family  after  all.' 

'  1  carmot  speak  to  her,  but  I  will  see 
what  her  mother  says.' 

'  Aye,  do;  ten  to  one  sho  takes  a  di.f- 
ferent  view  of  these  tliiuiiS  from  you.  IJad 
you,  my  good  man.  made  as  many  mar- 
riage-settlements as  I  hav(;done,  and  had 
to  square  as  many  accounts  with  widows 
as  I  have  had,  you  would  ho.  able  to  esti- 
luate  the  female  character  mure  correctly. 
Indeed,  from  your  own  experience  I  should 
have  imiigiiied  that  yu  would  have  been 
able  to  have  formed  juster  notions.' 

The  pair  now  reversed  their  walk, 
and  rcturne't  in  thedireetion  of  the  castle, 
and  on  arriving  found  lunch  awaiting 
them,  which  being  finished,  Ludovicko 
solicited  a  private  interview  with  John  ; 
but  that  gi  ntleman  insisted  on  his  wife 
being  prei;ent,  and  on  this  hint  Sarah, 
wondering  more  than  ever,  left  the  apart- 
ment. 

'  Mr.  Graham  and  T,'  said  Ludovicko, 
in  bis  blandest  manner,  '  have  settled  the 
whole  businese,  all  except  a  few  formali- 
6&»  ;  and  u  I  am  a  legal  man  and  always 


desirous  of  making  progress,  we  shall  sign 
nyimt-  of  the  papers  at  onee.' 

'  Show  me  them,  if  you  please,'  said 
the  laily  in  quite  a  matter-oi-laet  tone. 

_'  It  is  useless,  ma  am  ;  they  are  so  tech- 
nical you  would  not  uuderstaud  them  ;' 
replied  the  legal  man. 

'  What  I  caiuiot  understand  Mr.  Gra- 
ham will  not  be  iiMe  to  understand  ;  and 
he  signs  no  papers  that  I  do  not  see.' 

'  No,  none,  said  John,  now  becoming 
bold  when  he  could  ligiit  over  his  wife's 
shoulder. 

'  1  can  see,'  resumed  the  lady,  '  that 
Mr.  Graham  in  sitcnioji  tins  ackno^ledijes 
the  receipt  of  muuey  ;  have  you  given  him 
any  ?' 

'  N'ot  a  penny  have  I  got,  my  dear,  and 
he  wants  a  half  (d"  our  income,  the  right 
of  interference  when  he  likes,  and  the 
whole  at  my  death.' 

'  And  if  I  and  my  daughter  Sarah  sur- 
vive ? ' 

'  Two  hundred  and  some  furniture, 
while  you  live.' 

'  And  your  daughter,  Mr.  Graham  1' 

'  Nwtldng  but  permission  to  miirry  this 
Morison.' 

'  Mr  Grant,  gather  up  your  papers  and 
leave  the  house,'  exeliimed  Mrs  .Graham, 
in  a  calm,  decided  toi;e,  that  con\inced 
Ludovicko  that  she  was  composed  of 
other  stuff  than  her  husbmd. 

'  Do  you  know  your  danger,  my  good 
w(unan  r  susked  Ludovicko,  thrown  off  his 
usual  composure  by  this  unexjiected  sally. 

'  Perfectly  !'  and  adding,  with  marked 
emphasis,  -yours  too.' 

'  Mine,  ma'am  !  You  presume  on  my 
forbearai.ee.' 

1  '  It  is  the  last  thing  that  I  would  pre- 
sume on  ;  but  I  presutue  on  your  causo 
being  as  hollow  as  our  own.  Morison, 
this  relation  of  your,  has  heen  kept  in 
poverty  all  his  days  ;  and  suppo^inji  we 
negotiate  with  the  prine.ipal,  not  the  sidf- 
I  dis^ippointed  factor.  1  am  confident  we 
shall  make  a  better  bargain,  l^u  start 
— tfiat  hits  ytai,  does  it  not  ?  More  thao 
that,  your  nephew,  or  cousin,  or  what- 
ever he  is,  is  of  age  ;  what  right  h;tve  >  ou 
sir,  to  act  for  him!  Nature  and  juslicd 
are  on  our  side — law  on  his.  We  com 
promise  with  you  to  suit  our  own  pur 
poses,  but  if  tho  advantage  is  to  be  OQ 
your  side  it  is  no  compromise  at  all-.' 

Ludovicko  was  completely  taken  abixck 
by  this  saliy.  He  knew  that  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  was  sharper  than  her  lord,  but,  ree 
koning  his  gifts  at  a  low  rate,  this  implied 
no  eoiufiliuient.  Howcner,  he  Was  iairly 
in  a  C(H'ner  ;  and,  with  a  knowledge  of 
Morison 's  guilt,  his  case  was  weaker  than 
the   lady  was  aware   of.     Reflecting  on 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


93 


tfcis   lie   asked,   with   a    douhlc-distilled 
unc'-T,  what  terms  she  had  fixed  on. 

'Half  (il  the  monej-incuine  to  my  hus- 
band and    luyself;  and,  at   the  death  of 
the    l.iii;^est   liver,    the    property    to    he 
•  Bold,  and  then  divided   between  you  and 
the  gu'l  '  . 

'  Diiyou  think  me  a  foolT  screamed 
Ludovicko. 

'  No,  hir,  I  only  think  you  something 
else  ' 

'  Do.rt  brave  me,  madam  !' 

'  It  is  [leojile  like  you  that  ou^ht  to  be 
braved,  tiee.iuse  you  have  no  mcrey,  and 
ar,  idl  times  ready  ti>  do  the  worst  when  it 
Buitsyi'ur  purpose.' 

'  Riil  on,  madam  ! — rail  on  !  I  leave 
thi'i  instant  in  order  to  c uicert  measures 
for  your  ejectment,  and  bitterly  will  you 
repent  for  this  day  s  presumption.' 

'  And  I  leave  this  instant  too,  in  the 
carriage,  and  getting  hold  of  your  nephew, 
blow  the  whole  into  his  ear  ;  and,  if  re- 
port be  true,  he  will  not  be  inclisposed  to 
hear  something  to  your  disadvantage. — 
And  n  >t  trusting  my  own  wisdom,  I  shall 
Consult  our  own  law-agent,  Mr.  Livings- 
ton.' 

This  last  declaration  fell  on  Ludovicko 
•ike  a  thunderb.ilt.  Livingston  and  he 
had  been  rivals  on  every  occasion,  for 
Crown  appointments  and  for  private  prac- 
tice ;  and  a  pi  it  like  this  would  be  a  ter- 
rible thing  in  his  h.mds.  Then  there  was 
the  great  danger  of  Wainright  being 
caugiit,  ami  informing  on  Morison  ;  the 
latter  might  bec>)iiie  infamous,  iwid  the 
Crown,  in  consideration  of  the  very  pecu- 
liar circumstances  of  the  case,  allow  tlie 
current  occupier  to  keep  possession.  For 
once  in  his  life  Ludovicko  had  to  sing 
low,  and  he  gave  in  with  the  worst  grace 
possible. 

'  Hold,  rash  woman?'  said  he  after  he 
had  rapi.lly  run  over  the  alternative  con- 
siderations. '  I  am  oppressed  with  busi- 
ness, and  I  have  not  time  to  follow  out 
the  matter  ;  if  [  had,  I  should  defy  you. 
In  the  meantime,  therelore,  I  agree.' 

'  Writt!,  Mr.  Graham,  to  that  effect, 
then.' 

'Excuse  me,'  said  Ludovicko,  with  a 
polite  bow,  his  equanimity  having  now  re- 
turned ;  '  that  document,  if  found,  might 
hang  us  all.  There  are  a  great  many 
things  decidedly  better  of  being  reduced 
to  writing,  but  there  are  others  where  our 
own  memories  are  tlie  best  registers.  You 
anderstan<l  me,  madam?' 

'  1  ertectly  ;  and,  of  course,  as  you  sign 
nothing  to  us,  we  stiali  sign  nothing  to 
you !' 

'  Nothing!'  replied  Ludovicko,  putting  i 


up  his  parchments  with  n  mortified  aif, 
and  prepiiring  to  take  his  leave. 

'  But,  Mrs  Graham,'  said  John,  '  you 
have  not  yet  settled  poor  Sarah's  busi 
ness  ' 

'  There  is  no  necessity,'  retorted  the 
lady,  in  atom;  savoring  of  contempt.  '  Mr. 
Grant's  suggestion  is  an  excoUtnt  one. 
The  young  man  Lx.ks  well,  and,  in  case 
0*  accidents,  the  arrangement  is  desirable 
for  safety.' 

Ludovicko  looked  at  John  with  a  tri- 
umphant chuckle,  and  took  hia  leava 
iiiost  unceremoniously. 

'  Clever  woman  that,'  was  his  reflec- 
tion ;  *biit  by  far  too  clover  to  have  been 
my  wife.  1  owe  her  something,  and  when 
I  piy  iier  it  will  be  with  compound  in- 
terest.' 


CrL\PTER  XXVL 


MOlUSdN  S  OraCOVERY. 


"Week  after  week  passed,  and  the  bank 
robbery  remained  an  impenetrable  mys- 
tery to  all  save  Ludovicko,  and,  so  far  "as 
Morison  could  o'tserve,  it  was  a  mystery 
even  to  him.  Ludovicko  used  every  eff.rt, 
so  far  as  appearances  went,  to  detect  the 
bin-glirs,  hut  without  success;  and  it 
was  set  down  as  a  proof  that  the  theft 
had  been  accomplished  with  more  than 
ordinary  skill,  seeing  that  the  pnrpetra- 
tors  had  cimtrived  to  elude  his  v'igilarnie. 
He  o(t"n  gave  haziness-directions  connect- 
ed with  the  matter  to  Morison  toesecute^ 
but  his  manner,  neither  in  word  nor  ges- 
ture, g;ive  indiisation  of  suspiciwn,  and 
this,_  joined  with  the  general  friendly 
bearing,  so  lulled  the  nephew  that  in  jiro- 
cess  of  time  he  ceased  having  any  strong 
fears  regarding  the  dark  transactions  in 
which  he  had  been  so  seric^usiy  involved. 
His  hoard  remained  untouched,  p  irlly 
from  a  dread  tliat  he  might  not  be  able  to 
pass  the  money  unde  ected,  and  partly 
because  Ludovicko  now  allowed  him  a 
larger  salary.  , 

Still  he  was  not  without  misgivings 
that,  aith.-iusih  liis  crime  miiiht  not  be  dis- 
cove  ed  in  ]\iulton,  he  was  in  the  hands 
of  VViiinright  and  his  acconifiliees  ;  and 
he  often  trembled  iis  he  read  the  pl.ic.irds 
m  the  streets,  and  the  advertisements  in 
the  ne.vspMpers,  off-ring  large  rewards 
fir  the  detection  of  the  robbery,  and  hold- 
ing a  flee  pardon  to  all  except  those  actu- 
ally engaged  it  the  coramis.sion  of  the 
crime.  Other  bills  in  the  streets  he  had 
observed  to  disa{)pear  quickly ;  but  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if   these  ominous  aii> 


94 


CRATGALLAX  CASTLE. 


noupcements  wore  for  ever  to  durkon  the 
walls,  and  hurl  their  thrratenitijrs  at  hiiu 
froui  ever}  curnt-r  ;  and  turn  his  t^je  liow 
it  minht  ovt-r  the  broad  expanse  of  the 
couiit\  piipcr,  the  Death's  head  and  cross- 
bone  advertisement  of  '  Bur  k  Rnl>!)ery"  al- 
wajs  ant-sted  his  attention  and  conjured 
up  dread  and  dismay.  But  there  is  no- 
thing to  which  time  and  exp^^rience  will 
not  rec<'n<il';  us.  Penitents  have  worn 
shirts  ot  S|  iked  steel  till  they  could  not 
live  wifhoiit  them  ;  and  so  William  Mori- 
son,  h\  (iint  (if  being  frequently  alarmed, 
and  as  fnquentl^  alarmed  witlu)Ut  cause, 
began  to  jji't  li.ild,  and  if  he  could  not 
queiieh  the  smojldering  fire  within,  he 
Cmild.  wirniput  much  ditliculty,  look  at  the 
world  with  a  face  as  brazi-n  as  ever. 

One  alrernnoii, -while  in  the nffice  alone, 
he  was  .nui  prised  at  receiving  a  visit  from 
his  (ostt  r-iiioth' r,  Mrs.  Turner.  The  old 
woman  culled  hiui  hereon,  and  was  great- 
ly delijrhted  at  seeing  hiiu  ;  VjuC  Morison 
did  not  by  any  means  rtcijTocate  the  cor- 
diality. 

'  That  will  d(i,  now,  old  one,'  said  he, 
shaking  liiiiiftelf  free  from  an  embrace. 

"'  D  in't  s[ieaU  to  me  that  way,  Willy — 
1  do  nut  like  it,"  answered  the  woman  as 
Bf^tly  as  her  rough   nature  would  permit 

'  It  is  n(*,  what  you  like,  but  what  I 
like!     (io    and  caress  your  own  eon  ' 

'  I  never  can  like  him  as  1  do  you, 
"Willy  ;  you  know  I  always  called  you 
Gentleman  V\  illy,  and  him  Laboring 
Ned.' 

'  Aye  ;  well  your  prophecy  is  not  lilfely 
to  turn  out  true  ;  hut  1  like  you  for  not 
caring  ahoijt  him.' 

'  lias  he  done  you  any  ill  V 

*  No  ;  I  should  not  allow  him  to  do 
that,  but  I  h.ite  him  notwithstanding. 
However,  it"s  a  long  storv ,  and  as  1  am 
rather  busy  just  now,  you  had  better 
come  b.ick  some  other  time.' 

*  Do  not  -isk  me  to  go  away,  Willy  ;  I 
have  news  for  yu.' 

'  Have  you,  indeed  ?  Yovir  hen  has  had 
chickens,  1  suppose ;  or  you  have  got 
your  shoes  8ole<l  ;  or  something  of  that 
kind,  I  daresay  !' 

'  No,  the  news  concerns  you.' 
'  Well,  out  with  it,  will  you  V 
'  You  would  not  speak  to  me  tliat  way, 
Willy,  it  you  knew  what   I  have  done  for 
you. 

'  Now,  that  will  do  ;  it's  the  old  story 
that  every  nurse  cackles  about.  If  you 
did  dand'e  me  more  than  your  own  brat. 
were  you  not  naidforit?  And  was  it 
not  a  matter  of  business,  wherein  you  did 
a  certain  thing  for  money,  not  love  ?' 

'  Do  not  vex  me,  Willy,  or  you  will 
Mike  me  sorry  that  I  have  done  anything 


for  you,  and  make  me  go  away  without 
telling  you  what  brouiiht  me  to  Pauiton. 
1  assure  you  it  concerns  yourself,  not 
jne.' 

'Well,  how  often  am  I  to  ask  yoH  to 
make  a  clean  breast  of  it?  Perhaps  you 
want  to  Bell  your  information,  as  you  did 
your  nufsing.' 

'  Willy,  1  do  not  de.serve  this  at  your 
hand — indeed  I  do  not.  I  have  brought 
a  paper  that  will  tell  you  all  about  your 
father  and  mother.' 

'  Why  did  \ou  not  tell  me  that  before? 
Give  it  to  ine.  Let  me  see  :  "  These  are 
to  certify  tliat  on  this  22ii  day  of  August, 
18 — ,  I  married  Godfrey  Graham,  ^e^id- 
iiijl  in  the  psirish  of  Pauiton,  to  M.iry 
Morison,  spinster,  residing  in  the   parish 

ot .      Witntss   my   hand,   subscrilied 

before  these  witnesses,  LuOovicko  Grant 
and  William  Iveid,  indwellers  in  s. lid  par- 
ish of .     JoiiN   Adams,  V.D  M.,  Ivil- 

bailie."  Woman  !  do  you  mean  to  say 
that  this  is  the  certificate  of  the  marriage 
of  my  father  and  mother?' 

'I  do ;  Mary  ^lorison  was  yonr  mo- 
ther's name,  but  she  always  passed  by  th^ 
name  of  Mrs.  Morison,  as  she  ti  Id  me. 
that  her  husband  ciaild  not  acknowledge 
her  on  account  of  his  father  ;  and  then, 
when  his  father  died  and  he  became  a 
rich  man,  he  was  ashamed  to  let  people 
know  that  he  had  married  a  poor  wife 
Your  m<  ther  took  this  so  much  to  heart 
that  she  lont  her  reason.  She  often  told 
me  that  she  thought  her  hi  ad  would  go 
wroritr,  and  that  some  day  t-he  would  trust 
me  with  a  p:iper  that  would  be  of  use  to 
her  b.iby.  This  was  the  paper  ;  and  she 
t(  Id  me  further  that  she  thought  that 
neither  her  husband  nor  her  cousin  might 
b"  disposed  to  do  justiito  toyou,  and  tliat, 
i  as  1  Valued  a  heriafter,  I  should  keep  this 
till  you  came  of  age,  and  give  it  to  your- 
self and  nobody  else.  Now,  Willy,  say 
if  1  have  not  done  you  a  good  turn.' 

'  Of  counse  you  have  ;  but  there  is  no 
use  hinwing  your  own  trumpet.' 

'  Willy,    am  poor.' 

'  Does  your  son  not  heln  you'' 

'  He  allowed  me  to  draw  half  of  his 
pay,  and  till  last  month  i  got  two  pounds 
every  month  ;  but  the  slii|i  has  not  been 
lieard  of  for  some  time,  and  the  owner 
will  not  give  me  any  more  for  fear  that 
8  >me  accident  may  have  hapjiened.  If 
Ned.  poor  fellow!  could  have  heljied  me, 
I  should  not  have  wanted.' 

»  Well,  there's  half-a-crown  for  you  !' 

'  llalf-a-crown !  Willy,  I  have  helped 
to  make  you  rich  ;  and  is  that  all  yoo 
offer  me  ?  It  is  not  even  that  it  is  little, 
but  it  shows  you  to  be  cold-hearted- 


CRAIG  ALL  AN  CASTLE. 


99 


'  Make  lue  rich  !  How  should  this 
make  me  rich  V 

'  I  am  i-ure  of  it  Croin  the  wayyuunno- 
thor  sp'ke,  ami  frun  the  way  that  Mr. 
Grant  at*lit!tl  fur  your  mothers  p  ipers, 
and  froiii  ttie  questions  h<>  put  to  uie  if  I 
knew  mvsilf.  or  ever  IkkI  tnid  you  about 
your  father  heing  a  rich  man.  If  you  are 
(jodfi(;y  (jiMhiiiu's  son,  why  should  ynu 
u>)t  be  in  Cr.ii^.ill.m,  iiitstead  of  his  hro 
ther?  I  liave  uiten  thought  of  tliat, 
Willy.' 

,  '  I  daresay  you  have  ;  hut  it  is  all  non- 
sense. N.iw,  take  your  half-crown,  if 
you  are  fir  it.  and  go  away.  My  uncle 
lUMy  Come  Jind  catch  you  here.' 

'  I  am  sick  ind  !iot  at)le  to  work  as  I 
used  to  do.  When  you  are  rich  will  ynu 
help  me  then,  W^iily  ?  S  ly  that  you  will, 
And  do  nit  mike  me  unhappy.' 

'  VVi  11,  if  your  sun  does  not  cast  up  I 
may.' 

'  Willy.'  ri'plied  the  woman,  reddening 
•with  anti;i'r, '  You  have  lain  in  my  bosom, 
and  yim  kno  v  not  what  a  woman  feels 
who  hiis  hrouglit  up  a  child.  I  1  »ve  you, 
Willy — [  cuuld  lay  down  my  life  f.'ir  you. 
"  But  love  not  returned  changes  to  hate, 
and  you  may  yt  n-pi-nt  of  this.  Take 
care — you  do  riot  know  me!  If  you  drive 
me  to  in,  I  m  ty  do  something  that  may 
make  you  repent  that  ever  you  were 
born  I' 

'  You  have  forgot  your  half-crown,' 
bawled  the  f  ister-son,  as  the  mother  in- 
dignantly wilk-d  to  the  door.  The  only 
answi-r  w.is  a  scowl,  fierce  and  penetnt- 
ing,  as  it  the  hatred  of  ajie.s  had  heen  con- 
centr  ited  i.t  its  eiivenomed  look. 

'  Who  ever  heard  of  a  beggar  refusing 
half-a-cr own?"  .soliloquised  the  young  eaat- 
a>vay,  as  he  pocketed  the  coin.  'Its  as 
safe  in  my  cu-todv  as  in  hers.  This  docu- 
ment well-nigh  turns  my  brain ;  hut  it 
woul  i  n  it  d  )  to  have  all  iwed  the  old  hag 
to  see  th.it  Iiit  diseovery  elafed  me.  I 
am  Goi:rey  Grihims  son,  then,  and  not 
the  son  of  sim-^unnown  person,  who 
once  having  h  id  m  mey  lost  it.  T  am  re- 
lated to  pr-tty  siuoy  iMi.ss  Graham,  too. 
there's  a  g  • '  L  -t  me  He«  her  put  on  any 
more  of  lier  airs  now  to  me,  her  cousin. — 
And  n  ally  I  do  n  it  see,  as  the  old  wo- 
m:in  B.id,  why  1  should  not  have  .somc- 
plitiC  otf'Craijj  illin.  John  Graham's  sue 
cession  was  ;dw;ys  a  mystery  to  every 
body  ;  it  is  equally  a  myster}^  how  my 
unci;:,  as  he  has  hitherto  calh'd  himsel', 
Bhould  so  suddenly  have  h  coirie  Graham's 
fa<!tor  and  contidentid  adviser  ;  they  useii 
to  l)e  Bworn  foes.  Hang  me  if  there  he 
not  nefariousness  in  the  whole  bunin>'8s  I 
Ludovicko  is  a  thorough  rogue,  Graliam 
n  ftdother  ;  but  I  shdli  be  at  the  bottom. 


T  shall  procl.iim  to  the  whole  world  that 
I  aiu  Willi  uu  Graham.  By  jin;j;o.  itsounda 
well  !  B<it  Jio,  and  here  a  dark  flash 
cuue  aci'oss  the  hitluirto  uplifwvi  and  san 
guine  countenance,  '  that  cursed  r  ihb;?ry 
will  pnn'ent  me  from  donitj  anythi.ig  ! — 
Oh,  ii  Wiiinright,  ami  Uoppi-ris,  and  all 
Ids  crew  were  only  in  perlitioii,  or  sunk 
in  the  lowest  sea,  or  li.inj^cd.  or  some 
way  oif  the  earth,  I  might  h.ive  pMce  ; 
hut  as  long  astiiese  ruiliins  are  un>laugh- 
t^red  there  is  a  chance  of  their  coming 
l>ack  upon  me.  I  have  read  in  the  New- 
gate Cdend  ir  of  people  who  lent  ttiem- 
s'dvea  to  cri;ne  bring  tortured  all  their 
lives  hy  tlireats  from  sucli  miscreants  — 
Oh,  why  shoidd  I,  connected  a-*  I  now 
find  mysT-lf  to  he  with  sieJi  a  f  uuily  and 
huch  a  property,  why  shouM  1,  fir  the 
sake  of  this  infernal  g  >1  i,  have  liartered 
my  li'ierty  for  life  '  1  siuvered  when  I  first 
heard  its  cursed  jirij^le;  ;ind  something 
told  me  that  no  good  would  come  of  it. 
Wli.it  demon  had  took  possesion  of  ihia 
withered  hypocrite,  that  she  did  not  long 
ere  this  tell  lue  of  the  certiticatf.  ?  I'm 
sure  she  has  si'en  me  often  enough.  Ho- 
ward h<T  ! — a  stake  and  an  old  tar-barrel 
woidd  be  her  best  reward  !  But  I  am 
feverish  and  hot,  and  must  go  out  to  the , 
air  or  the  heat  of  this  coidbunded  offics 
will  kill  me.' 

So  sayinji;.  the  newly-discovered  hr:inch 
of  the  Craig  dlan  8toc<  call>'d  on  liankia, 
whi)  had  coiue  in,  to  look  after  the  office, 
and  then  sallied  firth  toco  il  Ids  S(;orched 
brain.  He  shunn'-d  all  town  a(^qu  lint- 
anees,  ana  ma<le  direct  fir  the  fields. 
Without  intenling  it,  he  took  the  Cr.ii- 
gillanroad;  and  having  fiurid  himself  in 
t.'iat  path,  he  determined  on  viewi:ig  what 
he  considered  ought  to  have  hMen  his  pa- 
trimonial inheritance.  He  did  not  at- 
t"mpt  entering  hy  the  prineip  il  gateway, 
iiut  stopped  at  the  footpith  leading  to  the 
rustic  briiige  across  tlie  water,  wliieh  baa 
ilreiidy  been  deycriljed.  Seeirig  no  one 
in  thegirdens,  he  boldly  flung  open  the 
style  at  the  entrance,  and.  c|■o,^^il'lg  the 
bridge,  '  was  in  the  territory  of  his  f*- 
thern,'  as  he  mentally  remarkt-d.  He 
paced  up  ari<i  down  the  walks,  hut  with- 
out V'-nturing  to  come  within  si},ht  of  the 
castle  windows,  and  amus;^ii  hiaiself  hy 
whistling,  sinjriog.  and  hre  ikin;^  br  inches 
olTthe  trees  with  his  stick.  Sarah's  dog, 
O.sivir  came  up,  and  not  relishing  the  in- 
truder or  his  occupation,  barked  at  hiin 
furiously,  and  keeping  close  to  the  charge, 
forced  him  to  commence  a  retret.  Hear- 
ing the  noise  of  the  dog,  Sar.h,  who  had 
just  quitted  the  house,  came  running  up, 
and  ordei'ed  Oscar  back.  The  animal 
obeyed  reluctantly,  and,  crouohiag  at  big 


96 


CRAKi ALLAN  CASTLE. 


mistrpse's  Cect.  jiavp  alow  growl,  and  con- 
tented liiiusflf  witli  sfi'ivviiiii  liis  teeth 
during  the  ri'inainder  of  tlie  infteiview. 

'  If  yiu  vish  to  go  to  the  castle,  sir,' 
said  S.inih,  '  that  w-dk  will  take  you  ufi 
to  the  hide  door.  I  am  sorry  that  the 
dog  has  annoyed  you.' 

'  I  .un  dot  g'iog  to  the  rsistle  raa'am,' 
replied  Morisoii  awkwardly.  '  I  merely 
Jtef'ped  in  to  f<oe  the  ^^arden.,' 

'  Ynii  are  qi;it.e  wi'Ieouie,  f^ir.  Mr.  Gra- 
"^am  doe.s  not  object  to  respectable  per- 
sons seeiny;  the  gnuinds.' 

S  trah  made  a  slight  reverenc'C,  and  was 
about  to  go  avFay  when  Mr><.  Crihani 
jnude  her  appearance.  The  old  leaver: 
T>as  in  hiT,  and  she  eyed  the  strau^^r 
baldly. 

'  U'hy  do  von  not  intro'luee  the  K'^n- 
tlewan,  Sirah?  I  saw  you  speaking  to 
Idin,"  Said  the  mother  with  a  spice  of  the 
ancient  hauteur. 

'I  do  nov;  know  him,' replied  SirV'; 
for  in  the  seu.so  of  not  being  acquainted 
she  did  not  kn.)V  M orison  ;  and  although 
she  had,  she  t  >■>  well  kne.w  her  mother's 
ide;is  of  caste  to  introduce  any  one  of  ple- 
beian character. 

'  I  came  in  to  see  the  gardens,  madam,' 
!nter[)o.sed  Moris m,  making  a  mosi  vile 
attem|)t  at  a  |)olite  bow.  * 

'Mr.  <irah.ua,' replied  tlie  lady,  '  i:. 
ftorniiioii  wi'h  other  proprietnrs,  make  the 
pu'ili(!  weicoaie  to  enter  his  ground.-j  ;  but 
thi're  are  tim-'S  for  their  aiJudssion,  an^. 
certaiidy,  propriety  wouM  diet  ite  tliat  at 
this  ctaije  (if  the  ev(!n}ng  the  owners  of 
the  pro[;erty  mi^jht  be  all  iweil  the  use  of 
their  own  doiiiains  in  privacy.' 

'*Tt  may  not,  perhaps,  be  right,  Mrs. 
Graham,  hnl  the  fact  is  that  having,  in 
the  way  of  business,  much  to  do  of  late 
with  Crai;.;alla,n,  and  reading  many  papta's 
and  dee<l8  connected  wiih  it,  1  tliought  1 
shi'uld  like  to  see  the  jil  lee.  1  saw  no- 
body in  tlie  gardens  when  I  came  in,  and 
I  thought  that  if  1  did  see  any  (me  they 
might  not  object  to  me,  considering  the 
near  relarion  in  widch  I  stand.' 

'  What  is  your  name,  pray,  sir  V 

'  Moiison — William  Morison,  nephew 
of  Mr    Ludovieko  (irant.' 

Despite  an  anticipation  of  something 
wrong,  and  theciuti(^n  incident  to  a  cold, 
rcfl'.-eting  dispo.sition,  Mrs  (iraham  could 
Dot  suppress  a  start  at  this  intiaiation. 
Rt  jovering  herself,  however,  she  said  that 
she  war  s.>i.'ry  she  did  not  think  of  asking 
Ilia  name  snoner. 

Sarah,  who  thcmglit  tliis  was  a  prelude 
■; )  a  storm,  put  in  her  word  mediatorily. 
And  begged  that  tlie  gentleman  might  be 
iii'twed  to  c  xitinue  his  walk. 

Certainly,   my  dear,'  said  Mrs.  Gra- 


Iiam,  to  the  great  surprise  (,f  her  danglk' 
ter  ;  '  I  had  no  other  intention.  If  you 
will  acci>mpiny  us.  Mr  M  iris  »n,  we  will 
show  you  all  that  is  worth  si^eing  about 
the  place.  Are  you  fond  of  ilowers 
sir?' 

'Ratlier,'  said  Morison,  unconsciously, 
whose  natun.l  boorishness  was  so  enhano 
ed  by  his  mivel  situation  that  Mrs.  Gr*-. 
hams  suiivity  made  him  look  moreof  tho 
hoohy  than  her  stiffness  had  previously 
done. 

Thfe  lady  plucked  some  flowers  and 
h. aided  tliem  to  hini,and  in  iicknowledge- 
inent  he  made  a  scraping  buw,  ttriking 
his  foot  to  the  ground  much  as  a  racer 
puts  down  his  fore-leg. 

*Sirih,'  continued  Mrs.  Graham,  'thero 
is  a  pretty  rose-bush  in  that  corner — hand 
one  to  ^j^.  Morison.' 

Sar.ih  took  out  her  scissors,  cut  a  large 
rose,  arid  holding  down  h';r  eyes,  and  with 
her  ficie  as  little  averted  as  civility  would 
p^'riiMt,  but  yet  distinctly  diagonal  in  its 
position,  she  presented  the  fl-.twtr. 

'  I  think  more  of  this  than  nil  the  rest,' 
said  the  recipient  with  a  showman  leer, 
.md   gallantly   placed   it   iu    his  button 
hole. 

S  irah  immediately  assumed  a  look  of 
colder  reserve  than  she  had  yet  put  on, 
and  took  her  |position  so  that  her  mother 
should  stand  and  w.dk  lietwccn  her  and  a 
party  whose  manner  was  momeii'ly  bc- 
c(ja]iiig  more  and  m(!re  disagieeable. 

The  ji  irty  moved  on,  and  a  short  ex- 
tension o!  their  Walk  wiadtl  have  biought 
them  in  front  of  the  windows. 

'  You  must  e.Kcuse  us,  Mr.  Morison,' 
resumed  Mrs.  Graham,  '  for  not  asking 
you  into  tho  castle  to-nijiht.  Mr.  Gia« 
ham  is  in  had  health,  and  is  so  very  ner- 
vous that  the  sight  of  a  stranger  would 
put  hint  completely  out  of  sorts  ;  but  we 
shall  be  gild  to  see  you  any  time  that 
you  m  ly  come  out  with  your  uncle. — 
I  think  you  have  said  Mr.  Grant  was 
your  uncle''' 

'  Yes,  ma'am,  I  said  60,  and  he  passes 
n,s  sucii  ;  but  I  have  got  informatiot. 
that  thiit  id  not  our  exact  relatiou  to  eaoh 
other.' 

He  looked  hard  at  the  lady  as  he  said 
these  words  :  but,  most  th(a'oughly  on 
her  guard,  she  betrayed  no  emotion  this 
time,  and,  indeed,  heard  thi?  remark  as 
if  she  heard  it  not.  Glibly  beginning  the 
conversation  again,  she  led  the  party  to 
the  bick  of  the  castle. 

'  I  do  not  know  if  you  are  fond  of  anti 
quities,  Mr.  'Morison,  but  this  is  the  moet, 
ancient  part  of  the  castle  ;  and  as  yoik 
were  saving  that  you  have  been  examin- 
ing ancient   papers   connected   with  th4 


CKAIGALLAN   CASTLE. 


97 


property,  perhaps  this  portion  will  inte- 
rest you  most.' 

'  1  begpardon,  ma'am,' replied Morison, 
'  but  some  modern  document  connoeted 
with  the  property  interested  me  most.' 

And  Iiere  again  he  looked  hard;  but 
his  words  produced  as  little  impression 
as  wjiter  on  the  solid  marble. 

'  1  always  thought  that  you  legal  gen- 
tlemen liked  old  parchments  best,' an- 
swered slie. 

'  So  we  do ;  but  when  new  ones  change 
the  destination  of  property,  we  reckon 
them  most  valual)le.' 

Mrs.  Graham  bit  her  lip  at  this  sally, 
but  slie  was  not  to  be  caught. 

'  Tliis  tower,'  she  remarked,  '  is  very 
old  ;  certainly  three  or  four  years  older 
than  the  rest.  It  is  a  pity  tliat  the  ori- 
ginal owners  should  have  forfeited  such 
a  fine  old  place  for  rebellion.' 

'  Very,'  added  Morison,  laconically. 

They  rtbw  walked  toward  the  rustic 
bridge.  Mrs.  Graham  laid  the  t\\)s  of 
three  fingers  on  tlie  extended  palm  of  the 
young  lawyer,  who  looked  for  a  similar 
compliment  from  her  daughter  ;  but  Sa- 
rah contented  lierself  with  a  formal  curt- 
sey, and  so  the  audience  terminated,  Os- 
car doing  the  retiring  honors  in  the  shape 
of  a  loud  bark. 

Mrs.  Graliam  wrote  that  night  to  Lu- 
dovicko. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

LUDOVIOKO'tf  DIPLOMACY 

Ei.ATED  by  these  floral  honors,  Mori- 
son  did  not  go  directly  home,  i)referring 
regalement  in  Mrs.  Findlays  by  way  of 
qualifying  the  excitement  of  the  day. 
Prolonging  liis  potations  rather  late,  he 
was  much  behind  iiis  usual  hour  in  going 
home,  and  an  proceeding  thither  was 
sharply  rebuked  by  Ludovicko. 

'I  have  told  you  again  and  again,  Wil- 
liam, that  I  will  not  tolerate  these  con- 
tinued irregularities.' 

'  You  have  no  right,  sir,  to  tell  me  any 
thing  again  and  again,'  said  the  nephew, 
fiercely. 

'  Boy,  you  are  intoxicated  ;  go  up-stairs 
to  bed.  In  the  morning  I  will  s{)eak  to 
you,  wlieu  you  are  capable  of  being  spo- 
ken to.' 

'  I  drank  on  purpo.se,  in  order  that  I 
might  have  tiie  necessary  courage  'to 
.brave  you.     I  know  you,  sir.' 

'  William,  do  not  be  foolish.  Tell  me 
calmly,  why  you  think  it  necessary  to 
make  a  sot  of  yourself,  in  order  to  brave 
uie.     You  have  some  chauoe  of  making 


I  sometliing  of  me  by  rational  behavior; 
'  l)nt  none  by  bluster.     What  do  you  com- 
plain of?' 

'  You  never  t(tl(l  me  that  I  wjus  Godfrey 
Graiiani'.sson  I'  replied  tlie  youtii  bluntly. 

'Thai's  roughly  out,'  thought  Ludov- 
icko to  himself.  '  But  wine  in  wit  out. 
I'll  pump  him  dry  ere  I  have  d(»ne  with 
him.'  Aud  the  good  man  set  about  his 
task  with  a  face  beaming  with  all  tlie  be- 
uevok-nce  of  a  Howard. 

'  What  use  would  it  have  been  to  have 
told  you  that?' 

'  It  would  have  enabled  me  to  have  held 
a  higher  position  in  society,  instead  of 
sneaking  tliroiigh  life  as  your  clerk,  with 
even  iiankin  at>ove  me.' 

'  Well,  William,  and  seeing  your  inca- 
pacity for  rising  by  professional  ability, 
and  that  you  had  no  f  «rtune,  would  it 
not  have  been  better  for  you  to  have  been 
a  clerk  in  name  and  reality,  than  have 
the  I'epulation  of  being  a  gentleman  and 
yet  only  a  clerk,  and  iiaving  your  rela- 
tions looking  down  on  you,  your  equals 
sneering  at  yon,  and  even  your  very  in- 
feriors despising  you?' 

'No  tortune,  you  say  I  If,  as  I  can 
prove,  1  am  the  son  of  Godfrey  Graham, 
and  Mary  Morison  lawfully  mariied,  why 
should  1  not  be  the  owner  of  Oraigallan, 
instead  of  a  humbug  like  John  Graham?' 

'  if  you  can  prove  all  that,  there  might 
be  something  m  what  you  say.' 

'Prove,  sir,  there  is  no  fear  of  that! 
I  have  got  hold  of  a  document  which  y(ju 
could  never  get,  with  all  your  ingenuity 
— aye,  and  bullying,  tooV 

'  You  have  got  the  marriage  certificate 
from  your  old  nurse,  Turner.  1  suppose. 
I  s!lw  ber  in  town  to-day  ;  and  as  she  is 
always  ready  in  asking  money,  1  expect- 
ed an  application  as  usual,  but  she  turn- 
ed her  face  the  other  way  and  tried  to 
avoid  me.  I  was  sure  that  the  movement 
betokened  sometliing.  As  to  the  certifi- 
cate, much  good  may  it  do  you.' 

'If  it  was  not  to  do  me  good,  why 
were  you  so  anxious  to  get  it.' 

'  For  the  purpo.se  of  endeavoring  to  do 
you  service,  returned  the  uncle.  'But 
circumstances  Iiave  since  occurred  which 
render  the  certificate  of  no  value,  and 
knowing  these  1  thought  it  better  not  to 
acquaint  you  with  a  matter  which  could 
only  vex  you  without  doing  any  good.' 

'  This  is  all  pretence,  to  lull  me  over.' 

'  Well,  state  your  claims.' 

'This  certificate  is  legally  drawn  out, 
and  shows  that  my  parents  were  duly 
married.' 

'  Does  it  ?'  asked  Ludovicko  ironically. 
'  In  the  first  place,  look  at  the  date  ;  in- 
stead  of  being   1801,  it  was  originally 


98 


ORAIGALLAN  OASTLE. 


1810,  and  has  been  so  a] tared  as  to  de- 
stroy its  credibility,' 

'  Hal  tlie  wiuiesses  remain.' 

'  Do  tliej  V  was  Lii(lt)vicko'3  next  iron- 
ical ijiiery.  '  The  minister  fellow  was 
and  suli  is  mad — that  is  to  say,  if  he  is 
alive;  the  other  witnesses  are  positively 
dead ;  so  that  you  have  only  one  living 
iuteliigent  witness  to  bear  testimony,  and 
he  is  n)yself.  The  wliole  att'air  was  a 
schoolboy  trick  of  my  own.  Both  parties 
knew  distinctly  at  the  time  that  it  was  a 
sham,  and  no  one  was  deceived  but  tlie 
poor  fool  wiio  pretended  to  perform  the 
cerem^my,  and  who  was  so  absent  that  he 
committed  the  blunder  in  dating  tlie  cer- 
tificate which  he  has  so  clumsily  tried  to 
rejjair.  There  was  no  proclamation  of 
banns,  the  parties  never  passed  for  man 
and  wife.  Your  mother  never  took  Mr. 
Graham's  name,  but  kept  her  own.  No 
scrap  or  letter  could  be  found  where  he 
called  her  hi^  wife  or  even  promised  to 
marry  her,  and  therefore  your  claim  is 
■worse  than  n(jlliing.  I  tried  every  tiling 
at  the  lime  but  could  adduce  no  tangible 
evidence,  and  I  did  my  utmost  with  your 
father  on  his  death  bed,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose. John  Graham  took  possession  as 
the  nearest  of  kin.  Possession  is  uine- 
tenths  of  tlie  law,  and  supposing  you 
were  to  take  him  before  the  courts,  he 
would  throw  the  onus  on  you,  and  de- 
mand proof  of  your  title.' 

'  1  know,  my  mother  thought  herself 
married,'  replied  Morisou,  somewhat 
chapfullen. 

'  1  know  she  did,'  answered  the  uncle. 
'But,  [x'or  thing,  she  went  wrong  in  her 
miiiil,  and  so  her  statements  went  for  no- 
thing ;  but,  supposing  she  had  been  sane, 
we  have  her  testimony  only  at  second- 
hand through  an  old  gossipping  nurse.' 

'  But  if  my  claim  be  not  exactly  legal, 
surely  I  have  some  hold  on  the  Grahams, 
and  they  ought  to  assist  me  in  one  way 
or  another.' 

'Now  you  are  coming  to  your  right 
mind,  ancl  if  you  keep  ui)  that  modera- 
tion in  tone,  1  shall  befriend  you.  ISee- 
fng  from  the  beginning  that  you  had  no 
chance,  I  adopted  you  as  my  nephew, 
and  meant  that  you  should  take  a  leading 
band  in  my  business.  How  you  have  an- 
swered my  expectations,  I  leave  your  own 
conscience  to  say;  but  I  am  willing  to 
forget  and  forgive  provided  you  turn  over 
a  new  leaf.  I  never  told  your  liistory  to 
the  Grahams  till  the  other  week,  for  you 
know  tnat  previously  I  was  not  on  good 
terms  with  them.  I  urged  on  them  the 
neces^ity  of  acknowledging  you,  and  they 
agreed  that  you  might  visit  on  friendly 
footing ;  but  as  your  relationship  was  not 


of  a  decided  character,  they  thonght  it 
would  be  better  that  that  should  be  kept 
private,  as  there  woull  be  no  end  to  the 
prying  of  curious  [>eople.  To  give  color 
to  the  intimacy  w'ii(;li  they  are  willing  t«> 
maintain,  it  was  arrangeil  that  under  me 
you  should  be  the  agent  f6r  the  estates  ; 
and  .-is  you  are  aware  that  we  have  al- 
ready quite  enough  to  do  in  the  office, 
this  is  the  explanation  of  Rankin  having 
apparently  received  the  .upper  clerkship. 
The  Craigallan  factorship  will  be  very 
much  a  business  in  itself,  and  1  wish  the 
usual  office  work  to  go  on  in  its  own  rou- 
tine.' 

'Does  the  girl,  Miss  Graham,  I  mean, 
know  of  my  real  name  ?' 

'  No,  she  is  the  only  one  of  the  family 
that  <loes  not  know.' 

'I  thought  as  much  from  her  haughty 
behavior.' 

'Haughty  behavior!  'Sdeath,  sir! 
have  you  been  at  Craigallan  ?'  • 

'  Yes,  and  saw  Mrs.  Graiiam  and  her* 
daughter.' 

'jjidyou  make  any. allusions  to  the 
confoun<led  discovery  you  have  been  ma- 
king so  much  of  V 

'  I  threw  out  hints  which  the  old  lady 
would  be  at  no  loss  to  understand,'  re- 
plied the  nephew,  proudly. 

'  It;  was  most  imprudent  in  yon,  Wil- 
liam— suicidal  to  yourself  and  most  dan- 
gerous to  me.-  Here  have  I  been  laboi  ing 
for  weeks  pa*t  to  establish  a  connection 
for  you,  and  set  you  up  in  life,  and  you 
come  forward  in  your  usual  headstrong 
way  and  put  your  foot  through  my  web, 
before  it  is  well  put  together.  The  Gra- 
hams are  very  proud  people,  and  have 
only  come  to  me  in  stress  of  weather. — 
All  has  hitherto  gone  on  smoothly,  till 
you  make  your  appearance,  and  ten  to 
one  that  your  hints  and  blind  parables 
will  not  only  have  disgusted  them  at  you, 
but  sent  me  to  Coventry  besides.' 

'  You  are  quite  mistaken,  uncle.  Mrs. 
Graham  received  me  most  graciously, 
and  asked  me  to  call  svith  you  the  first 
time  you  visited  them.' 

'  But  you  said  something  about  the 
dauglilerV' 

'  Yes,  she  was  sancy,  -but  then  you 
told  me  that  she  did  know  who  I  was.' 

'  Neither  does  she ;  but  her  good  opin- 
ion is  worth  cultivating.  She  has  the 
entire  control  of  her  father,  and  may  be 
the  heiress  if  she  lives.  Besides,  William, 
nobody  is  to  be  despised  or  unnecessarily 
made  an  enemy  of.  But  it  is  getting  late,« 
go  to  bed,  think  over  these  things  seri- 
ously. I  shall  make  you  sub-factor  of 
Craigallan.  It  is  an  excellent  opportu  • 
nity  for  your  recovering  youi^eLf.   Shun 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


99 


all  low  associates  and  low  practices,  and 
keep  up  a  dignity  compatible  with  your 
new  position.     Good-night.' 

The  two  relatives  then  separated. 

Next  morning  early  the  lawyer  was  at 
Craigallan,  and  after  breakfast  received 
an  audience  with  Mrs.  Graham,  who 
acicnowledged  herself  as  being  ahirmed 
about  Murison.  He  explained  how  mat- 
ters stood,  and  assured  her  that  there 
was  no  cause  for  alarm,  but  urged  co- 
operation in  the  scheme  he  had  devised, 
on  the  ground  tliat  if  the  story  of  Mori- 
son's  birth  were  noised  abroad,  plenty  of 
witnesses  of  the  marriage  might  cast  up. 
The  lady  saw  the  force  of  the  objection, 
and  promised  the  most  am|jle  assistance 
in  the  development  of  the  plot. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

BSJEOTBD   ADDRESSES. 

MoRisoN  now  commenced  a  series  of 
visits  at  Oraigallan,in  the  course  of  which 
he  made  many  advances. to  Sarah,  but 
^as  uniformly  repulsed  with  cold  civility. 
'  One  day,  after  dinner,  when  the  strangers 
present  wereLiidovicko  and  Morison,she 
stole  out  of  the  dining-room  jind  went 
into  the  garden.  Sitting  down  in  an 
arbor  within  view  of  the  spot  where 
she  had  taken  farewell  of  Edward,  her 
thoughts  instinctively  flowed  into  their 
ordinary  channel,  and  a  tear  came  slowly 
over  her  fair  cheek.  All  beautiful  women 
look  best  when  seen  unconsciously,  and 
thus  Morison  saw  Sarah. 

'  Crving,  Miss  Graham?'  said  the  lover. 
•Oh,  tie!' 

'I  think,  sir,  answered  Sarah,  with 
more  indignation  than  she  had  ever  be- 
fore shown,  'you  might  have  seen  that  1 
wished  to  be  private.'  ^ 

'  Stop,  ma'am,  if  you  please,'  said  Mor- 
ison, *  1  must  be  off  or  on.' 

'I  think  I  have  expressed  my  views 
pretty  plainly, 'replied  Sarah  with  a  sneer. 

'  But  you  have  nut  heard  me  out.' 

'I  need  no  hearing  out!  Under  no 
possible  circumstances  can  I  ever  regard 
you  than  as  a  person  accidently  thrown 
in  my  way  by  business  connection,  and 
entitled  to  civility,  if  you  keep  in  your 
own  prui)er  sphere ;  but  go  beyond  that 
t — and  if  1  must  speak  in  the  only  tongue 
that  you  seem  to  understand,  you  only 
excite  contempt.' 

'  My  proper  sphere,  madam  ?'  replied 
the  admirer.  '  If  you  knew  who  I  really 
am,  you  would  not  venture  to  Qse  such 
an  expression.' 


'I  know  what  yon  are.  and  so  who  yon 
are  is  of  little  consequence.' 

*  Is  it,  madam  ?  Then  know  that  I 
am  your  cousin — your  full  cousin!  How 
does  your  pride  like  that?' 

'  My  pride  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.' 
replied  Sarah.  'Your  story  is  a  mere 
trick.     I  never  had  a  cousin.' 

'  It  is  no  trick.  I  am  the  son  of  God- 
frey Graham,  your  uncle.  This  paper 
convinced  my  uncle  and  your  mother, 
and  it  ought  to  convince  you.  Will  you 
look  at  it?' 

'  I  am  no  lawyer,'  said  Sarah,  coldly, 
declining  the  paper.  '  And  supposing 
what  you  say  is  true,  I  am  only  sorry 
that  Godfrey  Graham's  son  is^So  unlike 
his  father. 

'  But  certainly  as  your  cousin,  as  your 
uncle's  son,  I  have  claims  on  your  favor- 
able attention.' 

'I  admit  none,'  answered  Sarah,  deci- 
dedly. '  And  if  you  are  a  gentleman,  as 
I  think  my  cousin  should  bi,  yuu  will  an- 
noy m^  no  more ;  or,  if  you  do  it,  it  wUl 
cause  me  to  take  very  decided  stei)s.' 

'  How  is  it  that  you  made  a  familiar  of 
that  upstart  Turner,  and  treat  me  thus, 
who  am  his  superior,  and  your  relation 
besides,  in  this  extraordinary  manner?' 
asked  Morison,  abru[)tly. 

'  I  am  under  no  ol)ligation  to  account 
to  you  for  my  transactions,'  said  Sarah. 

'  You  still  have  a  hankering  after  him 
— I  see  by  your  face  that  you  have.  But 
you  need  not  throw  aw.ay  your  affection 
on  him-^his  business  is  settled,  as  well 
as  fifty  fathom  of  the  Atlantic  can  do  it.' 

'  O  Heavens !   what  do  you  mean.' 

'That  touches  you,  does  it?  I  am  glad 
of  it.  Wed,  the  ship  has  not  been  heard 
of;  a  boat  with  her  name  on  it  has  been 
picked  up  on  the  open  sea,  and  there  is 
e^-ery  likelihood  that  all  liands  have  per- 
ished. If  you  have  a  mind  to  go  into 
mourning,  don't  forget  the  old  beggar, 
his  mother,  who  may  stand  in  need  of  a 
black  ribbon.  The  hag  was  trying  to 
extort  something  from  me,  and,  like  her. 
s>on,  she  turns  her  high  mind  to  account, 
and  turned  up  her  nose  at  the  offter  of  a 
half-crown.' 

Sarah  did  not  hear  one  half  of  this  ad- 
dress ;  the  earth  seemed  to  yawn  under 
her  feet,  the  trees  and  flowers  to  go 
round.  The  possibility  of  Edward  being 
drowned  had  neveroccurred  to  her;  and 
with  the  quick  fancy  of  youth,  she 
thought  of  him  as  writhing  in  the  boil- 
ing deep,  and  with  hundreds  around  him* 
sinking  in  the  waves  of  death ;  or  it 
might  bo  that,  saved  for  a  time,  beyond 
others,  he  might  even  now  be  days  and 
nights  on  the  mighty  waters  hnr—  ■ —  *-!f 


100 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


a  frail  spar,  and  slowly  dyinjr  by  hunger, 
cold,  or  fatigue.  These  terrible  images 
crowded  on  her  mind  with  fearful  rapid- 
ity., and  leaving  Morison,  without  well 
knowing  what  she  did,  she  staggered 
back  to  the  castle.  Going  to  her  own 
room,  she  sat  down,  and  covering  her 
face  with  her  hand,  remained  in  a  trance 
for  nearly  two  hours.  Stiffened  by  the 
long  continuance  of  this  uneasy  posture, 
she  looked  up.  and  found  her  mother 
bending  over  her. 

'  Sarah,'  said  Mrs.  Graham,  'I  am  sorry 
that  you  have  been  rude  to  Mr.  Morison.' 

'  He  deserves  no  better,'  replied  her 
daughter,  coldly. 

'  He  is^our  cousin,'  said  the  lady,  in 
an  admonitory  tone. 

'  1  am  sorry  for  it,'  was  the  mild  re- 
sponse. 

'  Your  father  and  I  would  like  much  if 
you  and  he  could  be  made  to  understand 
each  other.  A  union  between  you  would 
prevent  any  division  of  the  property. 
Dear  Sarah,  would  you  see  us  ruined 
and  turneil  out  of  house  and  home  V 

'•  No,  mother,  but  think  of  hand  with- 
out a  heart.' 

'You  are  selfish,  girl!'  replied  her 
mother,  leaving  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


IKTBIGUES. 


With  a  perseverance  worthy  of  a  bet- 
ter cause,  Morison  persisted  in  his  suit, 
but  all  to  no  purpose.  Sarah  became  si- 
lent and  reserved  to  every  one  except  her 
father  ;  the  bloom  forsook  her  cheek,  for 
she  rarely  went  abroad,  and  it  became 
apparent  that  health  and  spirits  were  fast 
going  down.  As  a  last  resort  she  de- 
termined to  appeal  to  the  generosity  of 
Morison,  and  sent  him  a  note  requesting 
an  interview  in  the  garden. 

'  You'll  think  me  very  bold,  Mr.  Mori- 
son', commenced  the  young  lady,  'in 
having,  asked  you  to  meet  me  in  this 
way.' 

•  Not  at  all,  ma'am,'  replied  the  satis- 
fied suitor;  '  better  late  than  never.' 

'  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  very  extra- 
ordinary favor.' 

'  What  is  it  ?'  asked  the  brisk  young 
man,  jutting  out  his  limbs  from  the  ar- 
bor seat  with  more  energy  than  grace. 

'  i  wish  you  to  fling  away  a  worthless 
thing,  that  is  not  worth  having,'  replied 
Sarah. 

'What  is  that?' 
Myself.' 


Morison  burst  into  a  state  of  uncon- 
trollable fury  when  he  heard  this.  '  I 
tell  you  madam  what  I  told  Turner,  that 
I  will  have  you,  if  there  is  any  means  in 
earth  or  hell  by  which  I  can  compass  my 
desire.  I  know  that  you  despise  me,  but 
that  only  wets  my  resolution,  and  will 
add  sweetness  to  my  rgvenge  when  the 
day  comes.' 

Having  delivered  this  furious  speecli, 
Morison  ran  off,  going  back  to  Paulton 
much  faster  than  he  came  out.  On  his 
way  he  met  the  post-boy,  who  accosted 
him — 

'  Sir.  you  sometimes  tak  cot  letters  to 
Craigallan  ;  you  inicht  tak  them  oot  to- 
day—it is  very  warm.' 

He  mechanically  took  the  letters  frpm 
the  lad,  and  glancing  over  the  addresses, 
saw  one  for  Sarah  bearing  the  post-mark 
of  New  York.  It  occurred  to  him  that 
this  raight.be  from  Turner,  and  scrutini- 
zing the  superscription,  he  was  confirmed 
in  this  opinion.  Dismissing  the  messen- 
ger, he  promised  to  return  to  the  castle 
with  his  dispatches,  and  when  the  post- 
boy's back  was  lairly  turned,  he  broke 
open  the  seal  .after  a  brief  interval  of 
hesitation.  His  conjecture  proved  cor- 
rect, the  letter  being  as  follows — 

'  82  Broadway,  New  York,  Aug.  3,18—. 

'My  Dearest  Sarah — I  enibrac*  the 
very  earliest  opportunity  that  I  have  liad 
on  shore  to  write  you.  We  were  ship- 
wrecked on  the  outward  passage;  and, 
alter  being  picked  up  by  an  American 
vessel,  were  landed  here  to-day. 

'  When  we  parted,  we  made  no  arrange- 
ments as  to  correspondence.  I  have  at  a 
great  venture  addressed  this  to  the  castle, 
and  earnestly  hope  that  it  will  reach  you 
safely  and  without  delay.  I  shall  be  very 
miserable  till  I  hear  from  you.  Out  of 
sight  out  of  mind,  is  a  common  catastro- 
phe ill  love ;  but  when,  as  in  my  case,  the-^ 
absentee  is  poor  and  friendless,  and  the 
rivals  on  the  spot  ricJi  and  powerful,  how 
fearful  are  the  odds !  Oh,  if  you  could 
only  be  poor  for  a  short  time,  in  order 
that  my  pretensions  might  be  weighed 
against  all  other  competitors !  You  in- 
deed told  me,  Sarah,  that  you  had  no 
other  lovers  :  but  how  can  beauty,  worth 
and  wealth,  such  as  yours,  long  remain 
uncoveted?  Do  relieve  my  anxious  sus- 
pense, and  let  me  know  that  you  enter- 
tain for  me  a  tithe  of  the  affection  where-  > 
with  I  subscribe  myself,  fondly,  devoted- 
ly, and  forever  yours. 

E.  T. 

'If  you  wish  me  to  write  again,  please 
say  if  I  shall  do  so  to  the  same  address 
as  this.' 


CKAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


101 


'Ton  wish  an  answer  by  return  of  post 
my  fine  fellow,  do  you  ?  Well,  you  shall 
have  it — and  in  such  a  way  as  will  close 
the  correspondence,  if  there  is  any  virtue 
in  good  ink.  What  a  blessing  I  came 
out  to  see  the  jade !  She  might  other- 
wise have  got  this  precious  document  and 
sent  a  snivelling  communication  in  re- 
turn. I'll  nip  their  cooing  in  the  bud, 
and  make  myself  the  hero  of  a  new 
edition  of  the  Babes  in  the  W(.>od.' 

With  this  resolve  Morison  returned  to 
Crajgallan,  and  left  the  letters  at  the 
|>orter''s  lodge,  except,  of  course,  the  one 
ivhich  he  had  opened,  and  it  he  carefully 
deposited  in  his  pocketbook,  and  a  second 
time  rotrjicing  his  steps,  he  pursued  his 
way  int-o  Paulton.  After  a  few  minutes' 
rumination  in  the  office,  he  took  up  a 
aheet  of  note-paper,  and  imitating  a  fe- 
male hand,  wrote  the  following  letter; 

'CKAIdALtAN  CaSTLK,   Stpl.    16,   18-. 

'Sir — I  always  had  considerable  scru- 
ples hi  yielding  to  your  solicitations,  and, 
on  reflection,  thought  myself  so  far  wrong 
in  maintaining  an  intimacy  with  a  person 
in  your  position,  unknown  to  ray  parents, 
that  I  took  an  early  opportunity,  after 
your  dei);u-ture,  to  consult  them  on  the 
point,  and  they  were  so  decidedly  averse 
to  any  thing  in  the  shape  of  a  low  con- 
nection, that  I  have  no  alternative  left  me 
but  to  insist,  in  the  most  decided  man- 
ner, that  all  intercourse  of  every  kind 
shall  forever  cease  between  us.  I  am,  sir* 
*  Your  obedient  servant, 

'Sarah  Graham. 

"P.  S. — There  is  no  occasion  for  your 
writing  any  answer  to  this,  as,  if  you  do, 
I  shall  put  it  into  the  hands  of  my  es- 
teemed friend,  Mr.  William  Morison,  as 
the  legal  adviser  of  the  family.' 

'There's  a  hit!'  exclaimed  the  ingeni- 
ous penman.  'Won't  that. go  into  his 
nerves!  By  jingo,  when  he  reads  that, 
he  will  have  to  prescribe  for  himself  for 
a  fortnight!' 

The  letter  was  duly  addressed,  sealed, 
and  that  same  night  took  its  flight  to  the 
unfortunate  lover. 

Next  tnorning  Morison  called  again  at 
the  castle,  and  acquainted  Airs.  Graham 
with  the  transaction,  ^ho,  on  the  whole, 
approved  of  it.  Had  any  rich  man  came 
forward  and  claimed  Sarah's  hand,  he 
would  have  been  made  welcome,  as  such 
a  suitor  might  have  helped  the  family 
out  of  difficulties ;  hut  a  poor  husband  to 
Sarah,  however  much  it  might  have  grat- 
ified the  young  lady  herself,  was  not 
consonant  with  sound  household  diplom- 
acy, and  therefore  fell  to  be  condemned. 


'  You  know,  Mrs.  Graham,'  said.  Mori- 
son, with  a  keen  look,  'I  have  u  great 
deal  of  power ;  but  I  am  anxious  to  get 
Sarah,  at  whatever  hazard,  and  have 
taken  the  trouble  of  going  through  this 
manctuvre  in  order  that  she  may  have 
another  chance  before  she  incurs  the 
danger  of  rejecting  me.' 

'  1  have  done  all  1  can,  Mr  Morison,' 
replied  the  lady  coldly,  who,  although 
hearing  well  the  oniiuous  words  with 
which  he  began,  and  observing,  too,  the 
significant  look,  had  the  presence  of  mind 
to  betray  no  emotion,  Ludovicko  and 
she  having  well  arranged  tiiat  no  mine 
should  be  sprung  except  between  them- 
selves. 

'  1  shall  give  her  a  little  more  time,' 
resumed  Morison,  '  and  if  she  still  holds 
out,  her  father  and  you  must  take  your 
chance.' 

'  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?'  asked  the 
lady  boldly. 

'  Oh  nothing,'  replied  the  bully,  some- 
what abashed  at  the  abruptness  of  the 
query. 

•Nothing,  sir!'  continued  Mrs.  Gra- 
ham; '  why  you  talk  as  if  my  daughter 
was  obliged  to  marry  you  and  nobody 
else !  But  tvhere's  the  dinner  bell.  Come 
along.' 

When  seated  at  table,  Morison  made 
no  further  advances  to  Sarah,  but  con- 
tented himself  with  doing  the  honors  of 
the  table  to  the  father  and  mother. 

'Any  news  to-day,  Mr.  Fiudlayson?' 
asked  the  old  gentleman,  one  of  whose 
infirmities  was  a  constant  forgetting  of 
names. 

'  None,  particularly,  except  that  the 
emigrant  ship  the  Brilliant,  of  St.  Davidsj 
has  been  wrecked.' 

'Ay — I  don't  recollect  her.' 

'  1  dare  say  not ;  but  I  mentioned  her 
to  yon  because  Barker,  Tommy  Barker, 
one  of  your  own  old  captains,  com- 
manded her.' 

'  I  recollect  him,'  answered  Joha. 
How  was  she  wrecked?' 

'There  was  a  nmtiny,  headed  by  th© 
surgeon,  and  a  storm  came  on,  and  all 
went  wrong.' 

'  Have  any  lives  been  lost  ?'  asked  Mr. 
Graham. 

'  It  was  at  first  supposed  that  the  mu- 
tineers had  all  been  drowned,  but  it  now 
turns  out  thtrt  they  have  arrived  at  New 
York.  The  way  that  1  know  of  it  is  by 
a  young  woman,  a  daughter  of  Mrs.  Fin- 
lay,  a  decent  vintner,  having  called  on  me 
to  say  that  tiiis  surgeon  had  promised  to 
marry  lier,  and  wishing  me  to  write  him 
to  keep  his  promise,  but  I  told  her  that, 
as   the  fellow  had  left  hia  mother  to 


102 


CRAIGALLAN   CASTLE. 


starve,  it  was  not  at  all  surprising  that 
he  should  jilt  his  mistress.' 

Sarah  could  bear  the  ribaldry  no  long- 
er, and  abruptly  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

LTTDOVICKO   CHECKMATES. 

One  day  Morison  burst  open  his  uncle's 
door,  and,  rushing  in,  wildly  exclaimed — 

'  Uncle,  you  are  a  villain  ! — a  double- 
dyed  villain !' 

'  Patience,'  replied  Lndovicko,  adjust- 
ing his  books  and  papers,  and  when 
he  had  carefully  assorted  them  and 
closed  his  ledger,  he  added,  '  you  should 
have  had  the  politeness  to  shut  the  door 
before  paying  me  those  compliments ; 
suppose,  now,  that  you  sit  down  calmly 
and  tell  me  what  new  will-o-the-wisp 
has  entered  your  brain.' 

Ludovicko's  eye  fell  calmly  on  Mori- 
son,  and  it  assumed  its  old,  brilliant,  pen- 
etrating gaze,  and  made  the  nephew 
quiver  in  spite  of  himself. 

'  Are  you  unhorsed  so  soon?  Has  the 
■wind  changed  already?  And  is  ray  ques- 
tion to  be.  What  did  you  mean,  sir,  or 
What  do  you  mean?'  was  the  uncle's 
continued  speech. 

'Both!'  retorted  the  nephew;  'and 
again  I  say  you  are  a  villain,  and  yoij^ 
conscience  knows  it  too!'. 

'We'll  leave  con'<ciences  alone,  if  you 
please,'  replied  Ludovicko ;  *  those  who 
nse  it  sometilnes  find  that  they  have  sins 
of  their  own.  What  do  you  refer  to  ? 
Take  time.  Do  not  toss  about  in  that 
way.  I  have  a  letter  to  write.  Perhaps 
you  will  be' calmer  when  I  have  finished.' 

'No,  sir,  I  shall  never  be  calm  with 
you— vou  have  clieated  me.' 

'How?' 

'Defrauded  me  of  my  birthright,  and, 
in  concert  with  these  detestable  Gra- 
hams, have  tried  to  keep  my  property 
from  me  and  take  it  to  yourself.' 

'  Is  that  all !'  remarked  Ludovicko,  re- 
opening his  portfolio,  and  preparing  to 
resume  his  writing. 

'All,  sir,'  roared  Morison.  '  Hell  and 
fury.  I  go  this  instant  to  take  out  a 
warrant  against  Graham  'and  you  for 
fraudulent  conspiracy.  I  suppose,  sir, 
you  do  not  think  I  will  do  it  judging 
from  your  Judas  leer,  but  you  never  were 
more  mistaken.  I'll  do  it  as  sure  as 
there  is  a  heaven  above.' 

'You  won't,'  said  Ludovicko,  with  his 
pen  between  his  teeth. 


'  Wait  here  five  minutes,  and  you'll 
see  if  I  won't.' 

*  I'll  wait  tea  times  five,  for  that  mat- 
ter,' 

'Why  won't  I?* 

'  Because  you  dare  not.' 

'  You  trust  to  the  relationship !'  ex- 
claimed Morison,  with  a  terrilile  giggle. 

'No,  to  a  much  surer  foundation,  and 
since  you  are  curious — to  your  robbery 
of  the  Ship  Bank.' 

'  You  are  only  trying  to  frighten  me,'     ^ 
said  Morison,  with  the  ghost  of  a  laugh. 
'  I  know  nothing  about  robbing  banks.' 

Again  Ludovicko  began  liis  writing, 
the  nephew  looking  abundantly  foolish 
during  the  time. 

'  Uncle,'  said  the  young  robber  sulkily 
'  you  have  me  and  I  have  you. 

'Do  what  you  like,'  said  the  compla- 
cent nucle,  'I  fear  you  not.  If  you  take 
me  along  with  you  in  what  yi>n  do,  yo»' 
may  do  wel;  bu""  I  sitouh*  not  say  v.uch 
for  any  scheme  planned  and  executed  by 
yourself.' 

'Surely,  uncle,  I  ought  to  lo  some- 
thing the  better  of  my  discovery.  J 
owe  a  grudge  to  the  present  people  in 
the  castle!' 

''So  do  I ;  and  so  fsir  as  they  are  con- 
cerned, you  may  work  your  will  on  them. 
Jqhn  is  an  old  enemy  of  mine — the  wife 
a  new  one.  The  doll  of  a  daughter  I  do 
not  care  about,  and  so  you  may  pack 
them  off,  bag  and  baggage,  when  yorj 
like;  ouly  it  mu-»t  be  on  terms  of  one- 
third  to  yon  and  two  thirds  to  me.' 

'These  are  hard  terms,  uncle,'  said 
Morison. 

'  Not  at  all  I  You  may  have  the  cas- 
tle and  the  name  of  Laird — tiiese  are  but 
shadows. — And  I  care  for  substances 
only.'  ,  , 

'Then  I  may  turn  them  out?' 

'You  may.  I  am  tired  of  them,'  said 
Ludovicko.  • 

'  Will  you  go  with  me  to  give  eflfect 
to  the  proceedings?'  asked  Morison. 

'  No;  you  can  do  it  yourself,'  was  the 
reply. 

'  I'll  go  immediately.' 

'  You  had  better  not,'  replied  the  rao^e 
reflecting  uncle;  you  are  excited.  You 
are  always  hasty,  but  to  day  you  are  un- 
usually so.  Go  up-stairs  and  think  over 
how  you  are  to  do  it.  Leave  me  now,  I 
am  busy.' 

The  nephew,  if  we  may  still  call  him 
so,  went  up-stairs,  but  not  to  think,  for 
he  could  not  calmly  rest  liis  miud  for  any 
length  of  time.  The  past  rose  up  before 
him  in  grim  and  dreadful  colors,  while 
the  future,  although  gilded  with  Irjpe  and 
the  prospect  of  riches  and  enjoyments, 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


108 


yet  had  its  ominous  clouds  which  dark- 
ened the  whole  prospect,  and  spread  a 
funeral  pall  over  every  castle  that  fancy 
reared  in  the  air.  Tortured  by  the  con- 
flicting emotions  which  rent  his  mind, 
he  determined  on  going  out  to  Craigal- 
lan  at  once,  and  lie  rushed  down-stairs 
to  pursue  his  journey. 

'  Where  are  you  going?'  was  the  cold 
query  of  the  uncle. 

'To  the  castle.' 

'  I  told  you  not  to-night.' 

'Well,  I  shall  not  go  in— I'll  look  at 
the  outside.' 

'Silly  fool,'  muttered  Ludovicko.  '  He 
ifli  imaginative,  young,  and  hot-hoaded.' 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE  EJECTMENT  AT  THE  OASTLE. 

MoRisoN  could  not  wait  for  the  dawn 
of  another  day  in  order  to  wreak  his  ven- 
geance on  the  Craigallan  family.  After 
two  or  three  walks  roundabout  the  cas- 
tle, he  went  to  the  luiU  door  and  rang  the 
bell  long  and  violently.  The  household 
was  alarmed  at  the  noise,  and  the  in- 
mates of  the  drawing-room  were  startled 
as  he  dashed  open  the  door,  and  entered 
with  a  scowl  on  his  face  that  bespoke 
deadliest  hatred  to  all  on  whom  his 
fiendish  eye  might  light. 

'What  is  the  matter,  Mr.  Morison? 
was  it  you  tluit  rang  the  bell  so  loud?' 
asked  Mrs.  Graham. 

'  It  was,  madam  ;  and  as  it  happens  to 
be  my  own  bell,  I  presume  I  can  ring  it 
as  loud  as  I  please.' 

'  What  do  you  mean,  sir?'  pursued  the 
lady. 

.  '  I  mean  that  the  knell  of  your  doom 
ia  sealed,  old  one.  I  have  discovered  all 
— all,  mark  me  !' 

'Are  you  mad,  sir  V 

'  No ;  but  the  next  thing  to  it,  and 
well  I  maybe  from  the  treatment  I  have 
received.  Well  1  know  now  why  you 
were  anxious  that  1  should  marry  your 
tawdry  daaglitcr,  and  well,  1  now  see, 
had  you  occasion  to  tell  her  that  you 
were  in  my  power — in  my  power  as 
thoroughly  as  if  you  were  bound  hand 
and  foot,  and  that  you  will  know  to 
your  cost.  By  the  Lord  !  you  have  fall- 
en into  the  right  hands  for  mercy !' 

'  \Vhat  do  you  mean,  sir?'  asked  Sa- 
rah sternly. 

'I  mean  this,  my  popinjay:  that  my 
father  left  me  this  property  by  will;  your 
father  and  your  worthy  n\other  knowing 
tliia,  tried  to  make  a  paction  with  Grant 


to  keep  it  between  them,  and  so  defraud 
me,  the  lawful  heir,  but  a  friend  of  mine 
overheard  the  plot  in  the  library,  and  so 
it  is  all  up ;  you  and  your  amiable  parents 
must  be  off  from  this  place,  bag  and  bag- 
gage—that is  with  such  baggage  as  1  may 
please  to  allow  you,  for  every  thing  is 
mine — the  very  broach  on  your  stomach- 
er was  bouglit  with  Tuy  money.  You'll 
refuse  the  first  bracelet  that  I  otfer  you !' 

'  Does  this  man  state  the  truth  V  asked 
Sarah,  turning  to  her  father  and  mother. 

John  fell  down  on  his  knees  before 
Sarah,  and  cried  like  a  child. 

'  Kneel  not  to  me,  father,  but  to  your 
Maker.  Mother,  1  insist  upon  your  an- 
sVvering  me.  Tell  me,  yes  or  no.  Does 
the  infamy  that  this  man  charges  us 
with  rest  on  your  hands,  or  does  it  not?' 

Mrs.  Graham  quailed  before  her  daugh- 
ter's searching  look,  and  she  answered 
iu)t,  but,  covering  her  face  with  her 
hands,  stooped  down  her  head  to  the 
table. 

'  Mother,'  said  Sarah,  her  voice  trem- 
ulous with  emotion,  'are  you  ashamed 
to  look  me  in  the  face  ?  O  God!  I  see  it 
is  too  true.  Shame  is  upon  us  now  for 
ever.'  She  walked  to  the  bell  and  rang 
it.  '  Tell  all  of  the  servants  in  the  house 
to  come  here,  every  one  of  tliem,'  said 
she,  in  a  composed  voice. 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do?'  inquired 
Morison. 

She  waved  her  hand  contemptuously, 
and  leant  her  arm  on  the  chimney-piece, 
as  if  waiting  for  the  domestics — and,  on 
their  being  assemUled,  she  turned  rouud 
to  them. 

'  My  friends,'  she  said,  solemnly,  '  this 
is  your  future' master,  and  from  this  hour 
you  will  take  your  orders  from  him.' 

Saying  this,  she  plucked  the  broach 
from  her  bosom  and  Hung  it  on  the  table 
and  left  the  room.  .John  Graham  looked 
wistfully  after  his  daughter,  and  then 
looking  toward  Morison  with  a  shudder, 
he  beckoned  his  wife  to  assist  him,  and, 
leaning  on  her  shoulder,  he  too  slowly 
left  the  apartment.  Morison  was  tluis 
left  alone. 

'Lord  of  all  I  survey!'  said  the  mis- 
creant, tumbling  on  a  sofa,  boots  and 
all,  the  network  cover  of  which  had  been 
made  by  the  fair  hands  of  Sarah. 

And  so  Sarah  walked  out,  scarcely 
knowing  where  to  go.  At  last  she  be- 
thought herself  of  the  cottage  of  Mrs. 
Arthur,  the  sailor's  wife. 

'  Preserve  me,  mem  !'  said  the  humble 
matron,  '  what  brings  you  out  this  time 
o'nicht,  and  naetliing  on-?' 

'  I  would  take  it  as  a  great  favor,  if 
you  would  only  allow  me  to  stop  all 


104 


CRAIG  A.LLA^r  C&3TLE. 


night  with  you,  Mrs.  Arthur.     I'll  sit  by 
tlie  fireside,  or  lie  on  the  floor,  or  any 

thing.' 

'Mem!'  ejaculated  the  sailor's  wife, 
who  concluded  tliat  the  young  lady's 
wits  had  gone  a  wool  gathering. 

Sarali  briefly  told  lier  story,  merely 
suppressing  what  bore  on  the  guilt  of 
her  parents. 

'  Oh,  the  black  faced,  black  hearted  vil- 
lain !'  exclaimed  the  honest  cottager. 
'  No  good  will  come  of  him.  If  Mr. 
Turner  was  here  he  would  pull  his  nose 
for  him.  But  ye  have  had  na  supper, 
mem ! ' 

'  I  can  take  none,  Mrs.  Arthur.' 

'  Then  you'll  gang  to  my  bed,  and  no 
sit  there.' 

'  I  can  neither  sleep  nor  eat.  I  have 
much  to  think  about.  Good  Mrs.  Ar- 
thur, I  may  needyour  services  to-morrow, 
for  I  have  no  other  friend,  and  if  you 
will  go  to  bed  yourself  you  will  be  all 
the  better  able  to  assist  me.  l)o,  now, 
and  leave  me  hei'e.' 

'  ril  no  gang  to  my  bed,'  replied  Mrs. 
Arthur ;  *■  but  I'll  sit  here  by  you  and  I'll 
no  speak  a  word.  Weel  do  I  ken  that 
when  the  heart's  full  its  no  idle  blether 
that  gie's  consolation.  I'll  sit  here,  and 
nae  more,  and  God  grant  you  a  safe  de- 
liverance from  your  sair  troubles.' 

'God  alone  can  do  it!'  and  covering 
her  face,  Sarah  knelt  down  in  silent 
prayer.  Resuming  her  seat,  she  at  last 
fell  into  a  gentle  sleep,  her  head  uneasily 
resting  on  the  back  of  a  chair. 

In  tlie  morning  Mrs.  Arthur  went  into 
Paulton  and  took  lodgings  for  the  family, 
and  on  her  return  Sarah  and  she  pro- 
ceeded to  the  castle  to  take  away  her 
father  and  mother. 

Slowly  did  the  little  procession  move 
toward  Paulton,  and  entering  by  a  back 
street  took  possession  of  their  poor  lodg- 
ings. 

The  news  spread  like  wildfire  over 
the  tovvi;,  but  nothing  daunted,  Sarah 
walked  boldly  to  LuUovicko's  ollice. 

'I  come,'  said  slie  to  the  lawyer,  'to 
know  what  is  the  exact  nature  of  this 
business.' 

Ludovicko  briefly  informed  her  how 
the  case  stood. 

'You,  then,'  said  she  bitterly,  'are  as 
bad  as  they.  But  what  1  want  to  know 
is,  do  we  now  know  tlie  worst?' 

Ludovicko  hesitated. 

'I  come  to  you  for  your  opinion,  and 
am  willing  to  pay  for  it.  Will  you  an- 
swer my  question  V 

'  Well,  Morison  might  claim  the  past 
rent. 

'  Might  claim  them?'    But  can  he  le- 


gally do  so  ?  I  wish  to  know  the  very 
worst.' 

'  His  legal  claim  is  somewhat  doubt- 
ful.' 

'  Then  there  is  some  hope.  Is  he  go- 
ing to  raise  a&  action  against  you  in  the 
matter^' 

'  No,  we  have  made  it  up.  He  dared 
not  quarrel  with  me.' 

'  Tlien,'  replied  Sarah,  exultingly,  '  he 
dare  not  meddle  with  my  father  any 
more.' 

'Why  not?' 

'  Because  his  exposure  would  certainly 
be  yours.' 

'  Ha!  you  are  a  young  general,  and 
yet  you  reason  well.' 

'We  shall  see,  sir,'  replied  Sarah  cold- 
ly, as  she  left  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


THE   NEW   HEIR. 


Onh  morning  a  letter  came  to  Morison 
when  seated  amidst  his  riotous  guests, 
and  he  read  it  for  their  amusement  in  a 
sniffling,  whining  tone  that  excited  uni- 
versal merriment : — 

'  Elton,  by  St.  Davids,  Dee.  10, 18 — . 

'  Dear  and  honored  sir — Your  foster 
mother,  widow  Turner,  has,  by  the  doing 
of  an  all-wise  Provid  nee,  been  reduced 
to  great  distress.  She  has  all  her  days 
labored  hard  for  the  meat  that  porisheth 
but  her  hand  has  not  prospered  in  the 
thing  whereunto  she  has  applied  it,  for 
she  has  been  thrown  on  a  bed  of  languish- 
ing and  of  mourning,  and  has  been 
obliged  to  expend  what  she  had  gathered 
up  for  evil  times. 

'The  excellent  youth,  her  son,  has  not 
been  heard  of  for  many  days,  and  were 
he  in  tiie  body,  and  knew  of  her  afflic- 
tion, she  has  assured  confidence  that  she 
would  not  lack  succor  from  him.  But 
certain  tidings  have  not  beet»  iieard  from 
him,  and  she  must  go  on  thefunilsof  the 
parish  if  relief  be  not  vouchsafed  by  you 
or  some  others  who  kuo\^  her.  She  cares 
not  for  parish  relief,  first,  in  prospect  of 
its  being  degrading,  and  secondly,  be- 
cause it  is  so  small. 

'  Sir,  Providence  has  blessed  you  with 
abundance,  therefore  help  this  poor  wo- 
man, for  1  can  certify  her  case  to  be 
needful. 

Dear  sir,  I  was  the  humble  instrument 
of  uniting  in  wedlock  your  mother.  Mary 
Worison,  with  the  man  Godfrey  Graham; 
and  as  you  revere  the  memory  of  thai 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


105 


good  and  broken-hearted  woman,  who, 
even  now,  may,  although  unseen  by  us, 
be  looking  down  on  her  son — as  you  re- 
vere her  memory  and  great  worth,  help 
the  childless  widow. 

'  Sir,  I  am  your  humble  servant  to 
command, 

'John  Adams,  V.D.M. 

'  Late  of  Kilbadie.' 

The  reading  of  Kilbadie's  letter  pro- 
duced shouts  of  laughter. 

A  profane  ruffian  who  had  been  intend- 
ed for  the  clmrcli,  but  who  had  from 
immorality  been  obliged  to  adopt  anoth- 
er profession,  volunteered  his  services  as 
amanuensis,  to  write  an  answer  to  his 
brother  clerk.' 

'  lie  shall  have  his  answer,'  shouted 
Morison.  '  Write,  Archley,  in  a  clerkly 
hand,  as  I  tell  you.' 

'Mr.  Morison  Graham,  of  Craigallan, 
has  received  the  letter  of  the  Reverend 
John  Adams,  late  of  Kilbadie,  if  it  be 
proper  to  ajiply  the  term  reverend  to  any 
other  than  the  clergy  of  the  Established 
Church. 

'  Mr.  Morison  (iraham  tendered  on  one 
occasion  the  sum  of  half  a  crown  to  the 
individual  who  is  referred  to  in  Mr.  i\d- 
anis'  note,  and  as  siie  declined  receiving 
it,  he  does  not  think  her  a  proper  object 
for  charity. 

'Craigallan  Castle,  Dec.  12,  18- 

'  There's  for  the  humbug  I  Let  his 
reverence  digest  that!' 

A  loud  huzza  followed  this  announce- 
ment. 

'Hurrah  for  Liberty  Hall!'  exclaimed 
the  chaplain. 


Sarah  was  destined  to  hold  converse 
with  another  friend  connected  with  the 
olden  time. 

'Miss  Surah,'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Arthur 
at  the  top  of  htr  falsetto,  '  here's  Mrs. 
Martin,  wi'  three  cartloads  of  beautiful 
furnitui-e !' 

Before  Sarah  could  recover  from  her 
astonishment,  Mrs.  Martin  made  her  ap- 
pearance. 

■  'My  bairn,'  said  the  affectionate  crea- 
ture, Iblding  her  former  mistress  to  her 
bosom — '  I'm  come  to  stop  wi'  you  again.' 

Sarah  shook  her  head. 

'  It's  altered  times,  now,  Martha;  we 
cannot  afford  anybody.  Mrs.  Arthur, 
there,  stops  for  nothing;  otherwise,  I 
do  not  know  what  we  should  have  done.' 

'  Bless  her  for  tlie  same !    I  aye  thocht 


she  was  a  decent  body.    But  ye  can  gang 
<  awa  hame  now,  my  woman,  I'll  take  the 
charge  after  this.' 

'  ri!  do  naething  of  the  sort,  answered 
Mrs.  Arthur, 

'  Are  yon  aware,  Mfirtha,'  asked  Sarah, 
'  that  we  have  lost  every  ihing,  and  iiave 
nothing  to  trust  to  now  except  my- exer- 
tions ?' 

*  That's  piper's  news,'  replied  Martha. 
'  My  auntie's  dead,  and  has  left  me  all 
she  had,  and  I  have  about  lifty  pounds 
in  the  year,  and  that  is  at  your  service.' 

'  Martha,'  said  Sarah,  I  cannot  pre- 
tend to  thank  you  for  so  much  kindness, 
but  I  cannot  avail  myself  of  it — indeed  I 
cannot.' 

'And  what  fur  no?' 

'  1  am  ashamed  to  do  it.' 

'  Weel,  Miss  Sarah,  a'  I  can  say  is  that 
its  a  kindness  to  mysel' — I  canna  live 
awa  fra  you.' 

Sarah  did  not  answer. 

'Loose  the  carts,*  said  Martha  to  the 
carters,  and  the  work  of  unloading  com- 
menced. 

'  Wliere  is  your  husband,  Mrs.  Arthur?' 

'  lie  is  at  .\merica,  and  is  on  his  way 
home,  and  will  be  here  in  two  or  three 
weeks.' 

'  Weel,'  replied  the  gracious  Martlia, 
'  I  will  need  you  till  th,at  time  to  help 
to  i)ut  things  in  order,  and  after  that  ye 
will  just  tramp.  Come  awa  doon  stairs, 
and  let  me  see  what  kind  of  a  kitchen 
you  have.' 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

A    FRIEND    IN    NEED. 

Patience,  though  a  doctrine  always 
preached  up  by  second  and  third  parties, 
is  most  unpalatable  to  principals,  and 
Sarah,  at  last  feeling  that  her  stock  was 
getting  exhausted,  determined  to  end  or 
mend  her  case. 

She  was  positive  that  the  Hodges 
would  know  something  of  Edward's 
movements,  and  although  she  shrank  at 
first  Irom  what  appeared  and  might  in 
reality  be  a  somewhat  unmaidenly  act, 
in  her  writing  to  comparative  stranger.i 
about  a  love  matter,  yet  her  feelings 
vyei-e  wound  up  to  a  pitch  of  such  inten- 
sity, and  she  had  of  late  been  accustom- 
ed to  do  so  many  strange  and  unusual 
things,  that  she  at  last  made  up  her 
mind  to  write  to  Mr.  Hodges  on  the  sub- 
ject. 

Her  communication  to  him  ran  as  fol- 
lows— 


106. 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


'Paxtlton,   Dec.  20,  18—. 

'  Dear  sir — You  were  tlio  kind  friend 
of  Edward  Turner,  and  I  believe  you  still 
are  so. 

'  Having  heard  contradictory  accounts 
of  the  shipwreck  of  his  vessel,  I  am  anx- 
ious to  know  exactly  as  to  his  safety, 
and  knowing  tlie  friendship  you  have 
for  him,  it  is  more  than  likely  you  will 
be  able  to  give  nie  the  information  I  re- 
quire. 

'  Our  family,  as  you  may  probably  have 
heard,  iiave  been  very  uiiroiauiiale,  and 
it  is  with  no  view  gf  wisliing  liim  to  re- 
new an  aciiuainrance  under  circniiistan- 
ces  so  altered  from  what  they  were  when 
he  and  1  met  under  your  hospitable  roof, 
tiiat  I  write  this  note.  All  I  wish  to 
know  is,  wlietlier  lie  is  safe.  I  do  not 
even  desire  to  know  his  address,  or  to  be 
told  in  any  way  of  his  future  movements. 

'  Please  remember  me  kindly  to  Miss 
Ilodaes,  and  to  Miss  Paterson. 

'  liespectfully  yours, 

'Saba II  Gbaham.' 

After  the  dispatch  of  this  letter,  Sarah 
anxiously  walciied  for  the  postman.  But 
morning  after  morning  did  the  man  ot 
letters  pass  througli  the  dull  street  of  Sa- 
rah's abode  witliout  deigning  to  stop  at 
Ler  door. 

She  was  thinking  of  a  second  commu- 
nication, believing,  as  all  sanguine  cor- 
respondents do,  tliat  her  letter  had  been 
miscarried,  when,  to  her  great  surprise, 
she  saw  Mr.  Hodges  himself  making  to- 
ward tlie  lioiise. 

•Her  mother  happened  to  be  sitting  in 
the  room  at  th'e  time,  and  observing  the 
lit  of  ireiiibling  tliat  seized  Sarah  on  be- 
holding some  unexpected  fornj|in  tiie 
street,  she  determined  on  remaming  to 
see  what  was  going  to  hap|>en. 

Mr.  Hodges  was  duly  announced.  Sa- 
rali  couid  have  liniig  herself  into  his  arms, 
for  memories  of  the  olden  time  came 
tiiick  upon  her,  but  Hodges' manner  dis- 
pelled her'  enthasiasm,  for  he  was  studi- 
ously cold  anil  reserved. 

'All  the  vvorld  is  truly  against  me,' 
thought  Sarah. 

'1  have  to  apologize,  Miss  Graham,' 
said  he,  '  for  my  seen)ing  delay  in  answer- 
ii:g  your  note.  The  truth  is,  I  was  from 
home  when  it  reached  St.  Davids,  and  it 
was  sent  to  me  here  only  this  morning. 
And  now  that  I  have  seen  you,  I  must 
express  my  surprise  at  your  having  sent 
Bucli  a  ctftnmunication  to  me.' 

•Sir!'  exclaimed  Sarah,  shuddering. 

'  I  have  no  wish,'  he  continued,  '  to  up- 
braid you,  situated  as  you  are  now. 
Providence  has  already  punished  you  se- 


verely enough  ;  but  I  repeat  my  surprise 
at  your  atttm])ting  to  correspond  with 
me,  knowing  the  respect  and  atl'ection 
that  I  bear  to  that  excellent  young  man.' 

'It  was  that  I'nade  me  write  you,  sir,' 
replied  Sarah,  in  a  state  of  incijeasing  be- 
wilderment. 

'  Write  me,  madam,  as  his  friend,  after 
you  had  insulted  ium?  Keally,  that  is 
too  much.' 

•  Insult  Edward  Turner,  sir-!  Insult, 
did  you  say?  Do  you  think  so  little  of 
me  as  to  suppose  me  capable  of  insulting 
him — I,  who  would  give  my  existence  for 
him?' 

'  There  is  no  use  talking,  ma'am — he 
sent  me  your  own  letter.  There  it  is — 
brazen  it  now  if  you  can  !' 

Sarah  wildly  seized  the  proffered  doc- 
ument, and  as  siie  read  it  her  frame 
seemed  to  freeze  into  stono,  and  her  eyes 
a-<sumed  the  glazed  hue  of  nuidness.  Her 
mother  bent  her  head  and  groaned  deejjly, 

'  Do  you  know  any  thing  of  this,  moth- 
er? asked  the  distracted  girl,  in  a  tone 
of  bitter  agony. 

'  I  do,  Sarah,  the  letter  is  a  forgery  of 
Morison's,'  replied  the  mother,  in  a  voice 
now  for  the  tirst  time  expressive  of  pen- 
itence. 

'  You  knew  this,'  shrieked  her  daugh- 
ter, and  yet  you  never  told  me  I  Moth- 
er, leave  me ! — leave  me,  or  I  may 
curse  you,  ere  I  know  that  I  am  doing  it !' 

Glad  to  escape,  Mrs.  Graham  hurried 
out  of  the  room,  and  sent  Martha  to  sup- 
ply her  i)lace.  Sarah  fell  into  a  stupor, 
but  by  the  assiduous  attention  of  Martha 
was  gradually  brought  round. 

'My  poor  girl,'  said  honest  Hodges,  'I 
am  terribly  vexed  about  this  melancholy 
business.  The  idea  of  forgery  never  oc- 
curred to  me,  otherwise  I  would  not  have 
harbored  an  idea  in  the  slightest  degree 
derogatory  to  your  honor.  All  the  peo- 
ple here  spoke  so  highly  of  you  tliat,  if  I 
iiad  not  had  what  I  supposed  to  be  your 
writing,  I  must  have  believed  what  they 
said.' 

Poor  Hodges  sat  with  his  handkerchief 
to  his  eyes  during  the  delivery  of  these 
pathetic  sentences.  Martha  also  was 
greatly  moved.  The  good  man  gave  Sa- 
rah some  common-place  consolations — ■ 
and,  promising  to  return  next  day,  took 
his  leave,  but  not  before  he  ha<i  beck- 
oned to  Martha  to  speak  to  him  privately. 

'  Let  the  family  want  for  nothing,' said 
he.  'Here  is  some  money,  and  Lsliall  set- 
tle a  regular  allowance  on  Miss  Graham 
in  a  more  formal  way  afterward.' 

'  She  has  been  killing  hersel'  wi'  teach- 
ing and  grief,  sir,'  said  the  kiud-hearted 
Martha. 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


lor 


•  Well,  she  must  teach  uo  more — tell 
her  that  from  me.' 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE   BULLY. 

The  next  clay  Morison  called  at  Gra- 
ham's hiiiiseit".  He  asked  for  Sarali.  On 
any  other  occasion  she  would  have  re- 
fused t<»  see  him,  but  desirous  of  recov- 
ering Edward's  letter,  she  desired  him  to 
be  sliown  in. 

'  I  tliought,'  said  she,  haughtily,  'that 
my  misfortuties  might  have  saved  me 
from  your  intrusion.  What  is  your  bus- 
iness ?' 

The  bully  was  taken  aback  by  this  cool 
reception,  and  stammered  and  blustered 
without  being  able  to  make  any  intelligi- 
ble declaration. 

'  I  understood,'  he  replied,  confusedly, 
'  that  your  mother  had  been  inquiring  ai- 
ter  me.' 

'  Tliere  is  one  thing  you  have  in  your 
possession,'  replied  iSarah,  '  and  I  would 
be  obliged,  even  to  you,  were  it  restored.' 

'  What  is  it  ?'  demanded  Morison,  ea- 
gerly. 

.'  It  is  a  letter  which  Edward  Turner 
sent  to  me  and  which  you  intercepted.  I 
■wish  to  have  it.' 

'Never!'  replied  Morison,  furiously, 
his  natural  impetuosity  bursting  forth. 
'I'll  keep  that  letter  in  my  desk,  and 
laugh  over  it,  as  I  have  done  often  before. 
It  was  a  rare  device,  and  I  thank  my 
good  genius  for  suggesting  to  me  such  a 
notable  ex[)loit.'  , 

'  1  know  that  you  have  stolen  my  let- 
ter, and  that  you  have  forged  an  ajaswer 
to  it,'  said  iSarah. 

'Is  thitt  all  V  asked  Morison,  taunting- 
ly, greatly  relieved,  and  wiping  his 
forehead. 

'  All !  no,  it  is  not  all,'  replied  Sarah. 
'Guilt  did  not  show  itself  on  that  livid, 
coward  face  for  nothing..  You  have 
other  and  fouler  crimes  to  answer'  for. 
Give  me  back  that  letter,  or  I  will  move 
heaven  and  tartli  to  detect  your  crimes, 
and  bring  you  to  justice.  I  am  not  the 
friendless  girl  you  take  me  for — I  have 
rich  and  powerful  friends  willing  and  able 
to  aid  me,  and  again  I  warn  you  to  be- 
ware.' 

Morison  writhed  in  his  chair,  and  rose 
and  walked  about  the  room  agitated  and 
undecided. 

'  Wait  a  little,'  said  the  coward,  dep 
recatingly. 

Sarah,  amazed  at  her  success,  and  cua- 


vinced  that  Morison  was  thoroughly 
frightened  at  the  idea  of  some  iiidden  m- 
iquity  being  broiicht  to  lijiht,  determined 
on  further  following  up  her  vantage 
ground, 

'I  shall  wait  five  minutes  longer,'  re- 
•plied  she,  peremptorily  ;  '  make  up  your 
mind  in  that  time,  for  I  will  have  uo  tri- 
fling.' 

Martha  beckoned  her  out  of  the  room,        f 
and  she  returned  again  in  the  space  of 
live  minutes. 

'I  will  not  give  up  the  letter.  The 
idea  of  theft  and  forgery  in  connection 
with  such  a  matter  is  not  an  allair  to  be. 
very  greatly  frightened  about— it  is  a 
matter  of  gallantry,  and  would  be  treat- 
ed as  such.' 

'  You  have  committed  other  crimes,' 
said  Sarah. 

'  Well,  if  I  have — and,  for  the  sake  of 
argument,  we'll  suppose  that  I  have  been 
no  better  than  my  neighbors — wliat  do 
yon  know  about  them,  or  how  came  you 
to  find  them  outT 

.  Sarah  gradually  changed  her  position, 
till  !?he  got  to  the  door,  ivul  after  open- 
ing it,  she  stood  with  her  hand  on  the 
handle  as  if  ready  to  make  sure  of  her 
escape  if  necessary.  Pointing  her  finger 
emphatically,  she  uttered  one  sentence 
which  fell  on  Morison  like  the  clang  of 
the  last  trumpet — 

'  Remember  Wainright  and  the  rope 
ladder!' 

Floor  and  ceiling  seemed  to  commingle 
in  one  fantastic  line,  and  fire  to  Hash  be- 
fore the  bewildered  vision  of  Morison, 
when  he  heard  the  ominous  words.  He 
made  a  rush  toward  the  door,  but  the 
floor  seemed  to  rise  up  before  him,  and 
he  had  to  clutch  to  the  corner  of  a  table 
to  keep  himself  from  falling.  Sarah  had 
left  the  room,  and  he  called,  but  called  in 
vain.  He  rushed  wildly  down  stairs, 
calling  on  her  to  return  ;  and,  not  well 
knowing  what  he  did,  went  out  at  the 
street  door,  which  was  immediately  clos- 
ed after  him. 

Finally  he  waited  on  Ludovicko. 

'  This  place  is  getting  too  hot  for  me, 
uncle,  and  I  nmst  leave,'  said  he  to  his 
upright  relative. 

'  You  have  been  leading  a  mejry  life 
for  some  time.'  replied  the  uncle,  'and  I 
am  much  surprised  tliat  you  are  so  soon 
tired  of  it. 

'  I  am  not  tired  of  it,  exactly,'  said  the 
reprobate,  but  the  Sliip  Bank  affair  is  be- 
ginning to  ooze  out.' 

'  How  has  it  transpired  ?' 

'  Heaven  knows !  But  two  persons  in 
Paulton  knew  it  yesterday.' 

'Who  were  they?' 


ids 


CRAIGALLAN   CASTLE. 


'  The  girl  Graham  was  one.' 

*  Who  was  the  other?' 
'  Copperas.' 

'  Worse  and  worse.' 

'  I  wish  to  be  off,  and  if  yon  wish  to  huy 
the  property,  you  shall  have  it  dog-cheap.' 

'It  is  the  best  thing  you  could  do,' 
.  replied  Ludovicko.  '  How  much  do  you 
want?' 

'If  you  will  give  me  ten  thousand 
pounds  for  it  I  shall  be  content.' 

'Ten  thousand  pounds!  why  that  is 
about  five  years'  purchase.' 

•  The  question  is,  what  you  can  get  for 
it.  But  I  don't  mind  giving  you  half  the 
sum  you  mention.' 

'Irs  miserably  little.' 

'  Try  some  one  else,  then.' 

'  Well,  I  agree,  when  can  I  have  the 
money  ?' 

'  I  cannot  let  you  have  it  for  two  or 
three  days.' 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

LTTDOVICKO'S   PtT-ECnASE. 

In  two  days  Ludovicko  had  the  deeds 
ready,  and  took  them  to  Craigallan  Cas- 
tle. '  Here,'  said  he,  is  a  bag  containing 
a  hundred  sovereigns,  the  balance  of  the 
thousand  is  in  Bank  of  England  notes, 
and  here  are  bills  on  America  for  the 
balance  of  the  purchase  money.     Sign.' 

'Who  are  to  witness  my  signature?' 
asked  Morison. 

'  Leave  that  to  me,'  ■*?as  the  reply. 

Morison  signed  the  parchment  docu- 
ment, page  by  page,  as  directed. 

'  T">o  you  leave  to-night?'  inquired  the 
u;    '  •. 

■  Ves ;  I  shall  be  oif  in  two  hours  by 
the  night  mail.' 

'  Cold,  calculating  bloodsucker,'  said 
Morison,  a  few  minutes  after  the  door 
closed  on  his  uncle,'  had  I  your  cunning 
I  might  devise  some  parting  memorial 
for  you.' 

'  I  will  help  you,'  said  a  voice  which 
appeared  to  come  from  behind  Godfrey 
Graham's  portrait. 

Morison  started  up  in  terror,  and, 
spell-bound,  looked  on  the  picture.  The 
whole  mass  of  canvas  moved  forward 
from  the  wall,  and,  covered  with  dust 
and  blood,  and  in  literal  rags,  Wainright 
sprung  down  on  the  floor  before  him. 

'  Dog  !  scoundrel !  what  brings  you 
here?'  asked  Morison. 

'Protection,'  replied  Wainright. 

'  You  shan't  have  it!'  roared  Morison. 


'Two  words  to  that  if;  I  am  discover- 
ed so  are  you.  I'm  hungry  and  thirsty, 
give  me  something,  if  you  would  not  see 
me  die.' 

'  You  shall  ilot  get  one  morsel,  and 
glad  would  I  be  if  to  "  ithhold  it  were  to 
in-ure  your  death,  villain  !  to  undo  me 
at  this  critical  moment.' 

'Morison,'  sa'd  Wainright,  'all  I  want 
is  as  much  money  as  will  carry  ine  off  to 
America,  like  yourself.  Do  not  refuse  it 
— I  am  both  desperate  and  dangerous.' 

'So  am  I,'  replied  Morison. 

'Give  me  half  of  this  money,'  said 
Wainright. 

'  Not  a  farthing!'  exclaimed  Morison. 

'  I  implore  you !'  returned  the  convict 
'Do  it  now,  you  can  run  off,  and  I'll  re- 
main here  a  little  longer.' 

'  Yes,  and  raise  the  hue  and  cry  after 
me!     Do  all  know  of  your  being  here!' 

'  None  but  Copperas.' 

'  He  is  laid  up  in  prison,  and  so  is  safe. 
I  have  only  to  secure  you  and  make  my 
retreat  good.' 

Morison  advanced  as  if  to  lay  hands  on 
Wainright — the  latter  drew  a  pistol,  but 
Morison  still  pressed  forward,  and  Wain- 
right tired,  but  the  instrument  only 
flashed  in  the  pan. 

'Dog!'  exclaimed  the  victor,  'I  have 
you  now !'  . 

He  seized  him  by  the  throat  and  bent 
him  over  the  back  of  a  chair  till  all  re- 
sistance ceased,  and  then  he  flung  him  oa 
the  floor  senseless.  He  fell  without  a 
groan.  He  then  dragged  the  body  into 
the  recess,  and  readjuiSting  the  picture, 
prepared  for  flight.  Suddenly  he  heard 
a  loud  knocking  at  the  d.ior — tlie  bells 
»ang — and  a  confused  noise  of  voices 
came  from  the  outside.  Tearing  open 
the  picture,  he  put  out  tiie  light  and  then 
rushed  in.  For  half  an  hour  he  heard  the 
tramp  of  strangers  in  every  di»ection. 

'There  is  a  secret  passage,'  cried  an 
unknown  voice,  between  the  library 
and  the  kitchen  lobby  ;  does  any  one 
know  of  it?' 

'I  do,'  returned  another  voice,  'tear 
down  the  picture.' 

The  picture  was  slashed  open  with  a 
cutlass,  and  the  body  of  Wainright 
drawn  out. 

'  Is  this  the  nian  ?'  asked  the  sheriff  of 
the  county. 

Copperas  nodded. 

'  He  is  not  quite  dead,'  said  one  of  the 
officers,  who  immediately  began  to  use 
such  restorative  efforts  as  tiie  exigency 
permitted.  Gradually  Wainright  revived, 
but  to  a  very  trifling  extent. 

'  Where  is  Morison?'  asked  Copperas; 
bat  the  dying  man  could  not  answer; 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


109 


indeed  it  was  a  question  if  he  understood 
what  was  said  to  him. 

Prosently  a  shot  was  heard  in  the  pas- 
sage, and  Moriaon  was  drapged  in.  He 
had  fired  his  pistol,  but  without  effect. 

'What  am  I  accused  of?'  asked  Mori- 
son,  suddenly:  'and  who  are  you  that 
invade  my  house  in  this  fashion  ?' 

'I  am  the  sheriff  of  the  county,'  replied 
the  8ui)erintendent  of  tlie  proceedings  ; 
'and  the  charge  aiiainst  you  is  robbing 
the  Ship  Bank,  and  aiding  in  the  escape 
of  a  convict  "returned  from  transporta- 
tion.' 

'  The  latter  charge  is  false,'  replied  the 
prisoner.  '  He  came  here  unknown  to 
me.  and  I  refused  to  shelter  him.' 

Wainright  tried  to  lift  himself  on  one 
side,  and  pointing  to  the  blaok  finger- 
marks on  his  throat,  signed  that  they 
had  been  intlicted  by  Morison. 

'  You  only  get  quit  of  one  charge  by 
bringing  on  yourself  one  of  a  more  hei- 
nous description.  This  wretch,  your  ac- 
complice, evidently  ha-;  not  long  to  live, 
and  it  is  evident  that  the  signs  he  makes 
as  to  you  being  his  murderer,  bring  home 
that  graver  charge  against  you.' 

'  I  did  it  in  self-defence.'  He  drew  a 
pistol  on  me.' 

'  If  it  were  in  self-defence,  observed 
the  magistrate,  '  how  came  you  to  fling 
him  into  the  recess? — or  why  did  you 
not  call  for  assistance  ?' 

'  I  am  not  on  my  trial,'  answered  Mor- 
ison,  doggedly;  and  then  changing  his 
tone,  'come,  my  lord,  what  bail  do  you 
want?  I'll  enter  on  my  own  recogni- 
zances to  a  large  amount.'  And  he  be- 
gan to  tell  out  the  money. 

'I  can  take  no  bail  from  one  charged 
with  two  capital  offences,'  replied  the 
sheriff.  '  Otiicers !  search  the  prisoners, 
and  then  remove  them,  taking  care  that 
the  younger  one  be  well  secured.' 

Tlie  orders  were  obeyed.  Arrived  in 
Paidtun,  Dr.  Anthony  Fitzgibbon's  ser- 
vices were  put  in  requisition  for  Wain- 
"ight,  but  to  no  purpose. 

It  ap[>eared  that  the  ruffian  Copperas, 
wlion  taken  before  the  authorities  at  St. 
Davids,  had  asked  if  any  reward  could 
still  be  obtained  for  the  discovery  of  the 
parties  who  had  robbed  the  bank ;  and 
on  being  answered  in  the  affirmative, 
explained  how  Wainright  and  Morison 
could  be  simultaneously  apprehended. 

As  the  disclosures  were  being  made, 
Morison  stood  before  the  sheriff  heavdy 
ironed,  and  with  a  look  redolent  of  ma- 
lignant ferocity. 

'  My  lord^  said  he,  '  I  see  it  is  all  up 
with   me;    but,  mark  me!     Ludovicko 


Grant,  my  reputed  uncle,  is  not  free  from 
blame  in  this  matter.  If  I  am  to  suffer, 
I  do  not  see  why  he  should  escape.' 

'  Take  down  his  words,'  replied  the 
sheriff;  '  when  he  arrives  in  St.  Davids, 
his  declaration,  if  he  have  any  to  make, 
will  be  received  more  formally. 

'While  Morison  stood  in  the  inn  yard, 
his  eye  fell  on  the  debauchee  who  in  the 
midnight  orgies  of  Craigallan  was  known 
as  the  chapbiin.  He  beckoned  to  him, 
and  the  worthy  came  to  the  side  of  his 
old  patron. 

'Archley,'  said  the  criminal,  '  I  have 
a  hundred  pound  note  in  my  watch  fob, 
which  has  escaped  the  searchers:  get  me 
something  that  will  do  my  business — ■ 
and  the  money  is  yours.  I  shall  hang 
otherwise!     For  Heaven's  sake  go!' 

1  he  chaplain  disappeared. 

By  the  time  he  returned,  Morison  had 
been  put  into  a  coach,  and  an  officer 
wa-i  stepping  in  after  him;  the  chaplain 
went  to  the  other  side,  and,  pretending 
to  shake  hands  with  him,  he  gave  and 
re(  f  ved. 

The  cavalcade  moved  on,  the  sheriff 
remaining  })eliind. 

'  My  lord,'  said  Ludovicko,  '  I  am  sure 
your  lordship  will  excuse  my  earlier  at- 
tendance on  this  most  melancholy  occa- 
sion.' 

'I  have  good  grounds  for  supposing 
that  you  yourself  know  something  of  this 
robbery,  and  I  have  issued  a  warrant  for  ' 
your  apprehension  accordingly.  1  shall, 
however,  admit  you  to  bail,  but  it  must 
be  heavy.  You  will  also  please  to  re- 
main here,  as  I  have  sent  the  officers  to 
examine  your  premises.' 

'Morison  has  killed  himself!'  shouted 
the  crowd,  and  it  was  too  true.  The  co- 
operation of  the  chaplain  had  supplied 
him  with  the  means  of  destruction,  and, 
by  the  time  they  had  well  cleared  the 
town,  he  had  found  means  to  execute  his 
awful  purpose. 

Ludovicko's  bail  bonds  were  prepared, 
and  he  signed  them. 

But  we  u^ed  not  linger  over  details 
now.  Edward  Turner  obtained  a  pas- 
sage to  England  on  board  a  British  man- 
of-wai'.  On  her  dM^'ks  he  found  honest 
Jack  Arthur,  the  lile  of  whose  child  he 
had  once  saved.'  From  the  grateful  sai- 
lor he  learned  the  true  state  of  things  at 
Craigallan.  Duty  induced  him  to  call 
on  his  mother,  before  he  visited  Sarah. 
He  found  his  aged  parent  in  the  agonies 
of  death,  and  from  her  pale  lips  he  learn- 
ed that  he  was  the  true  heir  of  Craigal- 
lan, and  Morison  her  own  son  whom  she 
had  substituted  in  infancy  for  Edward, 


110 


CRAIGALLAN  CASTLE. 


in  hopes  that  he  would  possess.the  prop- 
erty. His  unnatural  conduct  so  exaspe- 
rated her  that  she  determined  to  deprive 
him  of  it.  Ludoviciio  (irant,  fearing 
punishment  for  his  crimes,  left  lor  Amer- 
ica in  a  ship  which  was  wrecked  olt  the 
coast  of  Ireland,  and  perished  with  all 
hands. 

There  was  now  no  obstacle  to  the 
union  of  Edward'and  Sarah,  which  took 
Dlace  amid  great  rejoicings.     Ohl  Mar- 


tha, Kilbadie,  and  Oscar  spent  their  last 
days  welcome  guests  at  Craigallan. 

And  when  we  had  finished  our  MS., 
our  old  aunt  looked  up  to  the  ceiling  and 
said — 

'So,  Edward  and  Sarah,  tw^o  simple 
beings,  triumphed  over  Ludovicko,  Mori- 
son,  and  John  and  Mrs.  Graham,  all 
adepts  in  artful  villainy  I  Is  not  that 
vei  y  strange  ?' 

'  No  I     Right  is  Might  1' 


THE  END. 


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THE     REASON     WHY    SERIES. 

These  useful  works  will,  when  completed,  supply  all  the  "  Reasons,"  which  the  human 
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plan,  and  executed  with  the  most  conscientious  care — embracing  the  very  essence  of  demon- 
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which  they  are  written. 

The  Reason  Why:    G-eneral  Science.    A  carefiii  collection 

•f  some  thousands  of  reasons  for  things  which,  though  generally  known,  are  imperfectly  understood.  A  book 
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12mo.  volume  of  3)6  pages,  printed  on  fine  paper,  bound  ia  cloth,  gilt,  anJ  embellished  with  a  large  number 
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tbiJaga  that  daily  fall  under  the  eye  of  the  intelligent  observer,  of  which  he  seekii  a  simple  and  clear  ezplanatioii. 

E  X  A  M  P  T^  E . 
Why  does  silver  tarnish  when  exposed  to  ti(;ht  t                I     Why  does  dev  form  round  drops  upon  the  Uavtt  of 
Why  do  some  colors  fadt,  and  others  darken,  when           plants  f 
exposed  to  the  sunt                                                                    Why  is  the  sky  blue f 
This  volume  answers  2,325  similar  questions.. $1  50 

The  Biblical  Reason  Why.     A  Handbook  for  Biblical  Students, 

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large  12mo.,  cloth,  gilt  side  and  back.  This  work  gives  Reasons,  founded  upon  the  Bible,  and  assigned  by  tjie 
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History  of  the  Bible,  the  Idfe  of  our  Saviour,  and  the  Acts  c  f  his  Apostles. 

EXAMPLE. 


Why  are  ihtrt  several  manifest  variations  in  names, 
fads  and  dates,  between  the  books  of  KinffS  and 
Chronicles  f 


Why  did  the  first  patriarchs  attain  such  extreme  Ion- 

ffevity  t 
Why  was  the  term  of  life  afterwards  shortened/ 
Whjf  was  Saul,  who  was  a  bad  man,  selected  as  the 

first  King  of  Israel  t 

This  volume  answers  upward  of  1,200  similar  questions.    Pries $1  SO 

The  Reason  Why :    Natural  History.  ^  By  the  Author  of 

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hundreds  of  interesting  facts  in  connection  with  Zoology,  aiiu  throwing  a  light  upon  the  pecuUax  habits  and 
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IIXAMPLE.  « 

WTiy  has  the  lion  such  a  large  mane  t  Why  do  birds  often  roost  upon  one  legf 

Why  does  the  Otler,    wfien  huntin-g  for  fuj.,  twim        Why  have  fiat  fishes  their  upper  side*  dark,  and  tJieir 

against  the  stream  t  under  tides  white  f 

Why  do  dogs  turn  around  two  or  thrt*  limes  before        Why  do  tportinff  dogs  maleewheitis  termed  "apoistt/** 

they  lie  down  t 

This  volume  answers  about  1,500  similar  qussticsm    Ftico..... ....^1  60 


DICK  &  FITZGERALD'S 


No.  18  Ann  Street,  New  York. 


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Capt.  Jas.  Grant's  Novels- 
Frank  Hilton  50 

Philip  RoUo 50 

The  Yellow  Frigate 60 

ITaary  Ogilvie 50 

The  Adventures  of  an  Aid-de-Camp50 

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Handy  Andy 50 

Rory  O'More 50 

Treasure  Trove 50 

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Miscellaneous  Books  by  Grood 
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Lady  .Vudley's  Secret 7.') 

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Which  1  TheUightorTheLeft.-.-l  in 

A  Poor  Fellow 1  25 

Estello  Grant , 1  00 

The  .\rtist'8  Bride.     By  Emirsim 

Bennett 100 

The  Pilgrims  of  Walsingham.    By 

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Cyrilla.  By  the  Author  of''Initials"50 
Craigallen  Castle.    By  Mrs.  Gore. .25 

Gidoon  Giles 50 

GabrioUe;  or,  Pictures  of  the  French 

Revolution 50 

Fair  Rosamond.    By  Pierce  Egan.. 50 
Uuinten  Matsvs.   By  Pierce  Egan. .50 

The  Image  of  llis  i'ather 25 

Whom  to  Marry  and  How  to  Get 

Married 25 

Count  Tulien 50 

li'viy  Glenlyon 50 

Wc'i  ks  by  the  author  of '  Zaidee.' 

AdLVa  Graeme,  of  Mosagray 1  00 

Magcialeno  Hepburn 1  00 

Celebrated  Revolutionary 
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Harry  Bumham,  the  Young  Conti- 
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Matii<la,  2  large  vols 1  00 

The  Lovers  ofl'aris 50 

The  King  of  the  Winds 25 

The  Widow's  Walk 25 

The  French  J-^rtune  Teller 50 

The  Mysteries  of  the  People.. 50 

Atir  Gull 25 

The  Adventures  of  Hercules  H.ir'ly25 
Helone  ;  or,  The  Children  ofLove-25 

Professor  Ingraham's  Novels. 

Montezuma 50 

Grace  Welden 25 

Paul  Devercll 25 

The  Pirates  of  the  Shoals 25 

The  Dancing  Feather 25 

Josephine 25 

Maxwell's  Novels. 

Hector  O'Halloran,  2  vols 1  00 

-Vdvcntui-os  of  Captain  Blake 50 

The  Bivouac 50 

The  .\dventures  of  Mick  Costigan..50 
The    Matrimonial    Misfortunes    of 
Peter  Clancy 50 

Tales  of  Border  Adventure. 
Steel  Arm  ;  or,  the  Robbers  and  Re- 
gulators ol  California 25 

Big  Goliath  ;  or,  the  Terror  of  the 

Mines... 25 

The  Daring  Deeds  of  Good  and  Bad 

Women   25 

Charley  Hunter;  or,  the  Fate  of  a 

Forger .^.25 

Brownie    of  Bodsbeck.    A  Tale  of 

Thrilling  Interest 25 

The  Regulators  of  Arkansas 25 

Bill  Johnson..- 25 

Rawson,  the  Renegade 25 

The  Red  Scout, 25 

Red  Jack;  or  The  Scout's  Rifle 25 

G.  W.  M.  Besmolds'  Novels. 

Mary  Glenworth 50 

Life  in  London,  2  vols.- 1  00 

Ellen  Monroe,  2  vols 1  00 

Estlier  De  Medina,  2  vols 1  00 

Reformed  Highwayman,  3  vols...l  00 
The  Mysteries  of  London,  2  vols..l  00 

Pope  Joan 50 

The  Countess  of  Arnheim 50 

Angela  Wildon,  2  vols 1  00 

The  My  steries  of  Old  London 50 

Robert  Macaire 50 

Newton  M.  Curtis's  Novels. 

Bvron  Blonday. 25 

The  Ranger  of  Kavenstream 25 

The  Patrol  of  the  Mountain.... 25 

The  Scout  of  the  Silver  Pond 25 

The  Matricide's  Daughter 25 

The  Victim's  Revenge . 25 

The  Star  of  the  Fallen 25 

The  Hunted  Chief 25 

The  Prairie  Guide 25 

The  Maid  of  Saranac 25 

Novels  by  Alexander  Dumas. 

The  Royalist  Daughters 50 

The  Castle  of  Souday 50 

Marguerite  De  Valois 50 

Diana  Do  Poitiers,  2  vols 100 

HosaWo,id\'ille .M) 

The  Young  Chevalier 50 

The  Count  of  Morian . 50 

Woman's  Love 25 

Paul  Jones * 25 

Miss  Emelie  Carlen's  Novels. 

John 25 

Marie  Louise 25 

Woman's  Life 50 


Tales  of  New  York  Life. 
Caroline  Tracy  ;  or,  the  Milliner's 

Apprentice 25 

The  Midnight  Queen 25 

The  Belle  of  the  B,.WLr\ 25 

Ellen   Grant '. 25 

The  Adventures  of  Clarence  Bolton25 

The  Orphan  Seamstress 25 

Eva  May 2J 

George  Seton 25 

Now  York  in  Slices 25 

The  Gentleman's  Daughter 25 

The  Adventures  of  Tom  StApleton..25 

Tales  of  Romantic  Adventures. 
The  Mysteries  and  Miseries    of  San 

Francisco 50 

The  White  Wolf 25 

The  Mountain  Outlaw 25 

Ravonsdale 23 

Edward  Saville 25 

Julia  Mansfield ._... 25 

St.  Flore  ;  or,  the  Fatal  Promise. -.25 

Love,  War,  and  Adventure ..25 

The  Pale  lily.    An  Indian  Tale  ...25 

The  Spendthrift 25 

Don  Bamardo's  Daughter 25 

The  Orange  Girl  of  Venice 25 

Tales   of  Celebrated  Hierhway- 

men. 
Captain  Heron ;  or,  the  Highway- 

ofEpping  Forrest 25 

Jonathan    Wild's    Stratagem ;     or, 

the  Highwayman's  Escape 25 

The  Hangman  of  Newgate  ;  or,  the 

Highwayman's  Adventure 25 

Tom  Ripon ;    or.  The  Highwayman 

and  Housebreaker 25 

Claude  Duval  and  His  Companions ; 

or.  The  Race  on  the  Road 25 

The  Highwayman's  Ride  to  York  ; 

or.  The  Death  of  Black  Bess e."! 

Blueskin  Baflled  ;  or.  The  Highway- 
man's Traps 25 

Claude  Duval 2.1 

Life  and  Adventures  of  Dick  Clinton25 

The  Adventures  of  Tom  King 25 

Ned  Scarlet 25 

Captain  Hawkes 25 

Paul  Clifford 25 

Fearless  Fred 25 

Adventures  of  Margaret  Catchjiole, 

the  Female  Horse  Thief .X) 

Ned  Buntline's  Celebrat^ed 

Novels. 

The  Mysteries  and  Miseries  of  New 

York",  2  vols 1  00 

Three  Years  After - ^lO 

ThoB'hoysofNew  York 50 

Ned  Buntline's  Life  Yam 50 

The  Conspirators'  Victim 75 

The  White  Cruiser 25 

The  Jew's  Daughter 2.5 

Norwood;  or.  Life  on  the  Prairie,. 25 

The  Red  Right  Hand 2.i 

The  Buccaneer's   Daughter 25 

Pirate  Tales  and  Adventures. 

Garnello;  or,  the  Rover's  Oath 25 

The  Pirate  Chief 25 

The  Pirate  Doctor 25 

David  Watson 25 

Oipli ;  or,  the  Pirates  of  the  8hoal825 

The  Dancing  Feather 25 

Josephine .:. 25 

The  Ocean  Chief .r.::^ 25 

The  Yankee  Privateer ..^—^25 

History  of  the  Pirates ,......2d~ 

Cruise  of  the  Midge... .... 25 

The  Three  Cutters 25 


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Anderson's  Handbook  of  Magic 25 

100  Tricks  with  Cards 25 

Books  on  Etiquette*  and  Beauty. 

The  Perfect  Gentleman 150 

Chesterfield's  Etiquette  and  Letter- Writer 85 

Etiquette.    By  H.  P.  Will's,  paper 10 

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The  Art  of  Conversation 25 

The  Young  Bride's  Book 10 

Laws  of  Love 25 

How  to  Win;   or  Etiquette  of  Courtship 12 

Bridal  Etiquette 12 

How  to  Behave 12 

Blunders  in  Behavior  Corrected 12 

How  to  Dress  with  Taste 12 

Arts  of  Beauty.    By  Lola  Montez T5 

Ladies'  Guide  to  Beauty 25 

Fortune-Tellers  and  Dream-Bcoks. 
Fontaine's  Golden  Wheel  Fortune-Teilcr  and  Dream- 
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Pefctingill's  Perfect  F'.iainc-Teller  and  Dream-Book.. 35 

Le  Marchancr^  ■'"orVuTie-Teller  and  Dream-Book 35 

Everlastvflg^ortune-Te!ler  and  Magnetic  Dream-BookSO 
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Book  of  1,000  Comical  Stories 150 

Courtship  and  Adventures  of  Jonathan  Homebred.. 1  50 

The  Plate  of  Chowder 25 

Comic  English  Grammar SO 

Laughable  -■Vdventuros  of  Brown,  Jones  and  Robinson. .25 

Laughing  Gas ■. 25 

Adventures  of  Oscar  Shanghai 25 

Courtship  of  Chevalier  Sly-Fox-Wykofi' 26 

Charley  White's  Ethiopian  Joke  Book 12 

Black  Wit  and  Darkey  Conversations ...12 

Clips  from  Uncle  Sam's  Jack-Knife 25 

Kox's  Ethiopian  Comicalities 12 

The  Comical  -Adventures  of  David  Dufficks 25 

Yale  College  Scrapes 25 

The  Comic  Wandering  Jew ..25 

Broad  Grins  of  the  Laughing  Philosopher 12 

Knapsack  full  of  Fun  ;  or,  1,000  Rations  of  Laughter.. 80 

New  Dime  Song  Books- 
Tent  and  Forecastle  Songster 10 

Heart  and  Home  Songster 10 

D(  uble  Quick  Comic  Songster 10 

B  b  Hai-t's  Plantation  Songster 10 

Billy  Birch's  Ethiopian  Songster lO 

Little  Mac  Songster 10 

Touch  the  Elbow  Songster ...10 

Harrison's  New  Comic  Song  Book — —10 

Geo.  Christy's  Essence  of  Old  Kentucky .....10 

Tony  Pastor's  Comic  Songster 10 

'I'ony  Pastor's  Union  Songster 10 

The  Shamrock;  or.  Songs  of  Old  Ireland 10 

Harrison's  Comic  Songster ..10 

The  Camp-Fire  Song  Book _ 10 

Tlie  Charley  O'Malley  Irish  Songster 10 

Fred  May's  Comic  Irish  Songster 10 

The  Love  and  Sentimental  Songster 10 

The  Irish  Boy  and  Yankee  Girl  Songster 10 

The  Frisky  Irish  Songster 10 

Gus  Shaw's  Comic  Songster ...10 

Wood's  Minstrel  Song  Book -.10 

Wood's  New  Plantation  Melodies 10 

Fireside  and  Singer's  Favorite  Songster.... 10 

Convivial  Songster ,..10 

Social  Hour  Songster 10 

Christy's  New  Plantation  Songster 10 

Mrs.  Ellen  "Wood's  Celebrated  Novels. 

Mrs.  Haliburton's  Troubles 7,'> 

East  Lynne  ;  or,  The  E.arl's  Daughter 75 

Castle  Wafer;  or.  The  Plain  Gold  Ring .-.7;") 

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